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PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY 

OR 

PRINCIPLES OF EPISTEMOLOGY 
AND METAPHYSICS 



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PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY 

OR 

PRINCIPLES OF EPISTEMOLOGY 
AND METAPHYSICS 



BY 



JAMES HERVEY HYSLOP, Ph.D., LL.D. 

Formerly Professor of Logic and Ethics^ 
Columbia University, New York 



Neto Yotk 
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
1905 



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Copyright 1905 
By JAMES HERVEY HYSLOP 



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DEDICATED TO MY FORMER PUPILS, 

WHOSE PROBLEMS AND PERPLEXITIES WERE THE SOURCE OF THE REFLECTIONS THAT 

ARE EMBODIED IN THIS BOOK ; IT MAY BE THAT I CAN NO LONGER SHARE IN THE 

INTELLECTUAL GIVE AND TAKE OF THE CLASSROOM, BUT I MAY RETURN 

WITH INTEREST THE THOUGHTS THAT HAVE BEEN THE FRUIT OF 

MANY STRUGGLES TO MAKE CLEAR THE RIDDLES THAT VEX 

THE UNHAPPY PATH OF MAN WHEN HE SO MUCH 

NEEDS THE IDEALS WHICH HE CANNOT 

PROVE BUT ONLY LIVE 



PREFACE. 

If the statement be rightly qualified it may not be too much to say 
that, in this work, I have tried to reproduce the results of my own 
reflections on philosophic problems. I do not mean by this that it is 
in any sense a pioneer work, because it is quite the contrary. If I 
have accomplished anything at all in the effort it is the result of con- 
tact with the great historical systems, as all rational philosophizing 
must be in modern times. If I were to name the men who have influ- 
enced my thought most, according to my own judgment, they would 
be Plato, Aristotle and Epicurus among the ancients, and Kant, Hamil- 
ton and Lotze among the moderns. Just what and how much is owing 
them must be determined by the reader. None of the debt, however, 
is systematic. It is only for the conception of philosophic problems 
and general ideas which are necessary for the interpretation of the 
past and development of present questions. I have avoided reference 
to historical systems except to show how a problem originated and 
have endeavored to discuss present philosophic issues with less refer- 
ence to their evolution than to their functions and validity. I adopted 
this policy because I did not wish to implicate myself too closely with 
either the exposition or the criticism of historical views. This does 
not make what I have said new, but it does require it to be judged 
rather on its merits or demerits than on any avowed relation to tradi- 
tional systems. 

I have also been convinced that it is the duty of philosophers to 
discuss their problems directly and not merely the history and evolu- 
tion of systems. These latter questions are important and indispen- 
sable, but they are not the only proper work of the man who expects to 
make philosophy do its designated service to the age. Moreover to do 
this service it must discuss the time-old problems, whether it succeeds 
in providing a positive or a negative message for mankind, and hence 
I have confined myself to the general problems that are as old as Plato, 
trying, however, to avail myself of all the results since his day and to 
bring philosophic reflection back to that point of view which repre- 
sents or includes the phvsical sciences as well as the mental. Idealism 
has done so much to emphasize introspective and anthropocentric 
methods that, since Kant, it is almost impossible to induce philosophers 
to make any concessions to physical science and its results. Philosophy, 



Viii PREFACE. 

where it was not phenomenalism in disguise, has run off into the blue 
empyrean of transcendentalism while protesting against the possibility 
of it. As for myself, I feel convinced that it must seek the service of 
physical science and ever revise its constructions on the main lines of 
its problems as the progress of " empirical " knowledge requires it. 
On this account I have not arrived at any dogmatic conclusions upon 
some of the main problems of reflection, being content to outline the 
method for their solution and to show how far w^e have proceeded 
toward this, while I indicate my sympathy with the truth on both sides 
of disputed matters. 

In the title to the work I have endeavored to avoid the suggestion 
that I have dealt with all the problems of epistemology and meta- 
physics. I have purposely omitted many subordinate questions like 
"personality," "unity of consciousness," "the ego," etc., because I 
did not regard them as in any way conditioning the conclusions upon 
larger questions. I have selected the main general problems in the 
two fields and given them a connection with each other sufficient to 
give the work a definite unity, but not to make any pait of the system 
absolutely dependent upon any other. The unit}' is synthetic and not 
deductive, while I do not pretend to exhaust the subjects in their 
minutiae. 

One of the difliculties which I have always felt in the discussion of 
philosophic problems is the equivocal character of its fundamental 
terms. In spite of the most careful definition many of them will give 
rise to misunderstanding. To reduce this liability to a minimum I 
have adopted the device of putting many of the fundamental terms in 
quotation marks to indicate the recognition of this equivocal nature. 
I have confined this policy to technical terms of long standing use. 
This practice varies somewhat according to the connection and chap- 
ter under consideration. In some connections a term is more equivo- 
cal than in others. This I have tried to keep in view. But when I 
have used a technical term without quotation marks it is, with some 
exceptions, in the sense carefully defined and in none other. For in- 
stance, as exceptions, the terms "perception" and " cosmological " 
may be remarked. Previous to Chapter' V., the term " perception " 
did not involve any technical questions and its equivocal nature is not 
indicated. When referring to Kant's use of the term " cosmological " 
I limit it to the conception of the world as having a beginning in time, 
but in other cases I intend it to imply a world of interrelated realities 
without regard to the question of their beginning. When I have in- 
dicated the equivocal use I leave to the reader the determination of the 



PREFACE. IX 

sense in which it must be used to make the proposition true or intelligi- 
ble. When I have placed the word oittological in quotation marks I 
have used it in the Kantian sense and when the term is without these 
marks it is used in the sense defined in the present work. By this policy 
of directly calling attention to the equivocal import of fundamental terms 
I have indicated the source of many, if not all, the disputes between 
the various schools of philosophy, where they are not due to questions 
of moral temperament, and in thus recognizing the liability to mis- 
interpretation I can leave to the student the discovery of much that 
might have made the work longer and most uninteresting. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

Introduction. 
The two problems in human thought, "How" and "What," i. Greek 
thought first cosmological and then epistemological, 2. Sophistic movement and 
its relation to scepticism, 3. Plato and his relation to materialism, 4. Stoic 
and Epicurean theory of knowledge, 7. Greek thought and its relation to the 
supersensible, 8. Christianity and its relation to the supersensible and the 
theory of knowledge, 9. Dualism of Christian and mediaeval thought, 10. 
Cartesian philosophy and idealism, 11. Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, and their 
relation to scepticism, 12. Leibnitz and Kant, 14. Summary of analysis, 16. 

CHAPTER n. 

General Problems of Science and Philosophy. 
Relation between science and philosophy, 18. Four general problems of 
thought, 19. Comte's .lerza/ classification of the sciences, 22. Spencer's logical 
classification of the sciences, 23. Principles of classification adopted in this 
work, 25. Table of classification, and explanation, 27. Objections to the classi- 
fication, 30. Explanation of the metaphysical sciences, 34. Traditional contro- 
versies and practical life, 40. Relation between metaphysical and phenomeno- 
logical sciences, 45. Explanation of fundamental conceptions and origin of 
metaphysical doctrines, 46. Relation of monistic and pluralistic theories to the 
notion of causality, 49. Conceptions of causality, 51. 

CHAPTER III. 

Analysis of the Problem of Knowledge. 
Field of epistemology, 58. Equivocation of the term " Knowledge," 58. 
Influence of Christian controversies on the conception of " Knowledge," 60. 
Summary of its conceptions, 63. Problem of "What" and " How" we know, 
64. Equivocal nature of question, " Hov/ do we know? " 65. Limitations of 
scholastic thought, 68. Equivocal meaning of term " experience," 69. Theories 
of knowledge and reality, 70. Classification of theories of knowledge and 
reality, 72. Conception of idealism and realism, 74. General di-visions of men- 
tal functions, 77. Conception of "Mind " or " Soul," 79. Use of term " Phe- 
nomenon," 80. An implication of the term "Knowledge," 80. Ambiguity of 
terms " Real" and " Reality," 80. 

CHAPTER IV. 

Primary Processes and Data of Knowledge. 
Distinction between "elementary" and "primary," 84. Definition of Sen- 
sation, 85. Relation of conception of sensation to scepticism, 89. Origin of 



xu TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

theories of perception, 90. Difficulty of scepticism, 91. Meaning of Mentation, 
93. Relation of conception of Mentation to "Knowledge," 95. Nature and 
function of Memory, 97. Apprehension, its definition and function, 98. Illus- 
trations and limits of its function, 100. 

CHAPTER V. 

Conditions of Synthetic Knowledge. 
Explanation of synthetic knowledge, 107. Divisions and explanation of 
Concepts, 108. Propositions, no. Apprehension and Synthesis, in. Kant's 
categories and their functions, 112. Formal Logic and Knowledge, 113. Kant's 
conception of knowledge, 115. Relation of the categories to the meaning of 
propositions, 117. Function of " universality," 119. Schopenhauer's reduction 
of the categories, 122. Classification and explanation of judgments, 123. Classi- 
fication and explanation of the categories, 126. Relation of the categories to 
knowledge, 129. Perception, 132. Conperception, 139. Apperception, 143. 
Ratiocination, 146. Generalization, 148. Objections and explanations, 14S. 
Difference between the attainment and the communication of knowledge, 157. 
Equivocal nature of the sceptical question, 162. 

CHAPTER \T. 
Theories of Knowledge. 
Conception of Idealism and Realism, 168. T_\pes of the two theories of 
knowledge, 170. Relation of Idealism to Solipsism, 174. Sceptical function of 
Idealism, 176. 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Criteria of Truth. 
Nature of criteria in regard to knowledge or truth, 178. Forms of criteria, 
17S. Historical conception of Logic, 180. Kant's influence on the conception 
of Logic, 181. The conception of Logic adopted, 184. Nature of the syllogism 
and its relation to conviction, 184. The importance of the quantification of 
terms, 186. Function of reasoning, 190. Summary of the functions of Logic, 
191. Immediate consciousness, 192. Apprehension and its relation io knowl- 
edge, 193. Cognition and its function in knowledge, 197. The sceptic's ques- 
tion " How do we know.-* " 200. Arguments for objectivity, 203. Objections to 
the theory of cognition, 206. Generalization, 210. Mathematical judgments, 
215. Substantive judgments, 215. Relation of Definition to Generalization, 
217. Extensive judgments, 21S. Intensive judgments, 219. Essential qualities, 
224. Generalization summarized, 228. Scientific Method, 230. The processes 
of scientific method, 238. Acquisition, 239. Explanation, 239. Hypothesis, 
241. Verification, 244. Principles of scientific method, 246. Canon of Coin- 
cidence, 247. Canon of Isolation, 248. Relation of scientific method to the 
problem of knowledge, 250. Summary of results, 254. 

CHAPTER VIII. 
The Perception of Space and Objectivity. 

Nature of the problem, 258. Influence of Kant upon it, 260. Origin of the 
controversy, 264. Examination of Berkeley's doctrine, 267. Nature of Kant's 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. xiii 

theory of space, 271. Criticism of Kant's theory, 273. Kant's relation to 
Solipsism, 2S0. Relation of space-perception to sensation, 282. Conceptions 
of Descartes and Leibnitz influencing Kant, 284. Kant's relation to epistemo- 
logical and ontological realism, 293. Kant and " Dinge an sich," 298. Experi- 
mental facts and their relation to the problem, 309. Review of Kant's concep- 
tions, 322. Conclusion, 332. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Metaphysical Theories. 
Relation of time and space problem to metaphysics, 334. Hylology, 334. 
Relation of epistemological to metaphysical theories, 335. Definition and use 
of the term Spiritualism, 336. Relation between Idealism and Materialism, 337. 
Conception of " phenomena," 340. Relation between Materialism and Spirit- 
ualism, 345. Indifference of the problem to terminology, 348. Relation be- 
tween setiological and teleological problems, 350. Illustration of spiritualistic 
method and conception, 354. Relation of Monism, Dualism, and Pluralism to 
the problem, 357. Explanatory and evidential issues in metaphysics, 358. 

CHAPTER X. 

Materialism. 

Meaning and types of Materialism, 361. Early Greek Materialism, 362. 
Materialism and "material" causes, 364. Relation of Greek Materialism to 
modern conceptions, 365, Ancient materialistic theory of the "soul," 368. 
Epicurean admission of free agency, 370. Materialistic appeal to sensible facts, 
370. Strength of ancient Materialism, 371. Modern improvement of the atomic 
theory, 374. Influences extending the application of the materialistic theory, 376. 
Quantitative and qualitative questions in the atomic theory, 377. Relation of the 
doctrine of inertia to the materialistic theory, 379. Historical stages in the de- 
velopment of the modern view, 384. The indestructibility of matter and its im- 
port, 386. The persistence of force in Greek thought, 390. The mechanical 
theory of Descartes, 390. Development of the doctrine of the conservation of 
energy, 391. Nature of the theory of conservation of energy, 393. Materialistic 
application of the theory to consciousness, 396. The theory of parallelism, 398. 
Contradiction in the materialistic application of the conservation of energy, 402. 
Abstract and supersensible conception of matter, 404. Summary, 406. 

CHAPTER XL 
Spiritualism. 

Types of Spiritualism, 409, Destructive and constructive function of the 
theory, 410. Definition of Spiritualism, 411. Greek and Christian conceptions, 
413. Plato and Christian thought, 415. Elements of Platonic philosophy, 417. 
Plato and the Principle of Identity, 421. Efficient and material causes in Pla- 
tonic philosophy, 424. Relation of material causes to the conception of the 
transient, 426. The " one " and the "many," 427. The spatial and temporal 
universal, 429. Tendencies in Plato, 430. Conceptions in Plato connecting 
him with Christianity, 432. Plato's relation to abnormal mental phenomena. 



XIV TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

434. Origin of Christian doctrine, 435. Materialism and Christian philosophy, 
437. Influence of the Ptolemaic system, 43S. The story of the resurrection and 
its relation to previous thought, 439. Elements of Christian philosophy, 441. 
Cosmological conception of Christianity, 442. Atomism and Christianity, 444. 
The doctrine of Tertullian, 445. Development of Cartesianism, 446. Descartes 
and idealism, 447. Cartesianism and Scientific Method, 448. Causal relation 
between mind and matter, 451. The problem of parallelism, 452. The unity of 
subject and complexity of attributes, 456. Consciousness and motion, 459. 
The conservation of energy and Spiritualism, 463. Evidential questions in Ma- 
terialism and Spiritualism, 471. The problem of Spiritualism, 475. Consis- 
tency of Spiritualism with assumed objections, 477. Relation of free causation 
to Spiritualism, 47S. Theory of brain functions, 48 1. " Proof " of Materialism, 
482. Relation of Spiritualism to the abnormal, 487. Kant and Swedenborg, 
490. Kant and Mendelssohn, 494. Materialism and idealism, 502. Modifica- 
tion of the conception of matter, 506. Summary, 508. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Existenxe of God. 
Influence affecting the conception of God, 513. Modern modifications and 
tendencies, 514. The Kantian antinomies, 517. Kant and the " ontological" 
argument, 522. The synthetic nature of the argument, 523. Kantian perplexi- 
ties, 524. Demarcation of the problem, 527. Unity of " first cause" and " mat- 
ter," 530. The cosmological conception and its place, 531. Relation of the 
doctrine of inertia to the problem, 533. Non-phenomenal nature of causality, 
535. Limitations of " empirical " causality, 536 Threefold nature of the argu- 
ment, 538. Elasticity of the conception of "matter," 540. Motives affecting 
Greek and Christian ideas, 543. The aetiological argument, 553. The conser- 
vation of energy, 555. Analogy from psychology, 558. The teleological argu- 
ment, 560 The mechanical conception of " nature" and the idea of God, 561. 
Relation of the problem to human art, 563. Relation of " nature" to man, 565. 
Priority of problems, 570. Conclusion, 572. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Conclusion. 
General observations, 575. Idealism and realism, 576. Ethical relation of 
the two theories, 579. Social function of philosophy, 5S1. Ethical and episte- 
mological idealism, 584. Function of idealism, 585. Philosophy and science, 
587. Materialism and spiritualism, 588. The belief in a future life, 590. Diffi- 
culty of the Kantian argument for a future life, 594. Modification of the moral 
argument, 596. General importance of the belief, 597. The conception of God, 
599. Science and the "proof" of the existence of God, 602. Pantheism and 
Spinoza, 605. Science and religion, 607. The conservatism of religion, 608. 
The function of scepticism, 609. Ethical spirit of science, 611. Dehumanizing 
influences in science, 621. Reconciliation of religion and science, 623. Reason 
and faith, 628. The work of philosophy, 633. 



CHAPTER I. 
INTRODUCTION. 

Historical discussions often afford us the best method of analysis 
which we can adopt, as they represent conceptions understood and 
agreed upon sufficiently to make definition less necessary or explicit. 
This fact will explain why a iew observations on some of the main in- 
tellectual movements in philosophy are here indulged as preliminary 
to the direct discussion of the fundamental problems of epistemology 
and metaphysics. I shall discuss them rather as " moments" or mo- 
tives in the development of thought than as systems. It is simply cer- 
tain elementary questions which I wish to discuss that are not always 
considered in the theories of "knowledge" and "reality." They may 
not require any consideration of systems at large, but only certain 
moods and assumptions lying at their basis. An exhaustive treatise 
wovild, of course, involve a complete history of philosophy as it turns 
about the conceptions to be discussed, but I do not regard this as either 
necessary or prudent in any attempt to elucidate some of the funda- 
inental ideas on which epistemology and metaphysics live. 

The two fundamental ideas out of which these sciences grow and 
which also distinguish them are /io%v we know and what we know, 
with also considerable dubiety and discussion regarding what is meant 
by " knowing" apart from both the process and object of it. While it is 
difficult, if not impossible ultimately, to separate " how " from "what " 
we know, owing to both the nature of the facts and to the nature of 
the intellectual interests involved, yet there are certain exigencies 
which require us to abstract them in certain definite problems for the 
sake of establishing a basis for further discussion of the questions at 
issue. This is apparent in the whole history of human thought which 
has been as much interested in producing conviction in others as in 
reaching a subjective solution of speculative problems. The conver- 
sion of a critic or the instruction of a stvident on dovibted questions 
may require me to establish a general premise or truth which does not 
carry with this self-evidently the truth of any given proposition, and 
it may never carry it with it in any other way. But it often happens 
that, if truth of any kind is discovered, it must be independently of 
some particular mooted matter, and we may get no farther. But this 



2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

separation of su))ject matter of discussion does not imply the absolute 
separation of " how" and " what," process and object, "form" and 
*' content," though it defines the issues on which any profitable delib- 
eration is possible. While I mean, therefore, to recognize an abstract 
distinction of the two questions I shall have reasons for often, if not 
always, considering them together. The primary question will turn 
upon what we mean by " knowledge." That term has been so much 
abused and so little defined that discussions of epistemology and meta- 
physics are perfectly useless until we know exactly what problem we 
are discussing. 

There are three movements which affect the definition of the prob- 
lem. The first culminates in Plato, the second in Descartes and the 
third in Kant. This, of course, is only a way of suggesting Greek, 
Mediaeval and Modern philosophy. But I think the nature of the 
" moments " entering into the problems are better expressed in the 
personalities which either represented or initiated a tendency than in a 
mere chronological distinction. The first of these movements was not 
so vitally connected with religious ideas as the second, ^vhich was wholly 
preoccupied with these. Greek thought began in cosmological specu- 
lations. Scholastic thought in theological, and Cartesian and Kantian 
thought in epistemological problems, apparently eschewing an interest 
in either of the other two questions, 

Greek thought began its reflection with entire confidence in its 
ability to solve its problems. These were the origin of the world 
and the nature of human knowledge. Scepticism as to human faculty 
was not known and did not arise until the Sophists began to apply 
the principle of change to sense perception. Every thinker from 
Thales to this school accepted without question human capacity for 
coping with the questions of the universe and knowledge. The dis- 
tinction between sense and reason in some of them did not indicate 
any properly sceptical spirit or method as to the fact of knowledge, 
but only as to the source of true knowledge, however it may have 
stimulated the rise of doubt. The distinction only served to mark a 
difference of opinion regarding the nature of this knowledge as deter- 
mined by its origin, each of them being assumed to be valid for its 
purpose. There was no question as to how we obtained "knowl- 
edge" generally and apart from cosmological problems and objects. 
The question was whether sense or reason gave us the knowledge we 
actually possessed or were assumed to possess about nature. This 
knowledge was granted. It was only disputed between the schools 
whether sense or reason represented the most important source of it. 



INTRODUCTION. 3 

Of course there were differences of opinion regarding the nature of 
cosmic unity, whether of the pluraHstic or monistic type, but all agreed 
that there was a unity of some kind, so that, in so far as the process 
of knowledge was concerned, the differences of opinion turned on the 
sensory or intellectual, or in modern parlance, the materialistic and the 
spiritual, view of this knowledge, the conflict being between the com- 
mon and the educated man in regard to the world and its phenomena, 
though in general they held to very much the same propositions. 

It was with that remarkable movement which began with the 
Sophists, that real scepticism took its rise. These thinkers began to toy 
with the "relativity" or " phenomenality " of knowledge, stimulated 
thereto, no doubt, by the discovery of illusions in sense and reason 
and aided by a confidence in logic which might have been incompatible 
with their doctrine. The nature of " objectivity " had not been doubted 
before, whether regarded as an object of sense or reason, but under 
sophistic discoveries distrust of human faculty began. It did not of 
course in inost of its disciples take the form of doubting the validity 
of what v^e w^ould call the states of consciousness as such to-day, but 
it did question the validity of our supposed sensory " knowledge" of 
the world. This is to say that the mind began to wonder if its 
"ideas" of "reality" were correct, or in any way represented what 
they were supposed to represent. The common mind had al"ways 
trusted, and the philosopher vs^as not disposed to disagree with the com- 
mon mind's verdict, that the physical world as presented to sensation 
was in any respect different from its appearance. The philosopher 
might indulge in all sorts of speculations about its evolution or origin 
and suppose all sorts of supersensible "realities," but he always assumed 
that they were like the " reality " which he saw and felt, only that they 
were too "fine" to be perceived by our ordinary sense perceptions. 
In technical language he assumed no antithesis between what he saw 
and what he did not see. But the sceptic of the sophistic period began 
to believe that our senses were not only not able to perceive " reality" 
but that the ideas formed from sen.sation about that "reality" were 
illusory. He extended his doubt to the general principles of morality 
and many of the intellectual convictions on other subjects. Scepticism 
thus obtained a footing from which it has not yet been dislodged for 
all those individuals who have to pass through the same mental devel- 
opment. As in all ages, and as perhaps will alw^ays be necessary, the 
problem of knowledge and the problem of things went together, 
though a foundation was laid for their distinction in some form. All 
the facts were there which resulted finally in such antitheses as " phe- 



4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

nomenal " and " noumenal," " absolute" and " relative," " ideal " and 
" real," "sensational " and " rational." Previous speculation was prop- 
erly metaphysical, as it was occupied with the nature of things, con- 
fidence in mental faculty being assumed. The subjective world was 
not a disputed factor in the case. But the sophistic movement opened 
up the field of illusion wath all its manifold puzzles which have ever 
since provoked seriousness as much as they elicited mirth. It attacked 
the very stronghold of conviction, and if it did not prevent belief from 
vdtimately having its way, it gave that mental instinct all the trouble it 
could devise in the efforts to justify itself. The old opposition between 
sense and reason as arbiters of knowledge became a new opposition 
between mind and nature, consciousness and object. This latter form 
of statement was long in developing, but it was nascent in the concep- 
tions which the sceptical movement of the Sophists initiated. They 
suggested the analysis of mind and raised questions which tended to 
dispute its capacity to " know," or to conceive the " nature of things " 
in any such terms as had been previously taken for granted. 

Plato follows with a constructive effort where the Sophists had 
been destructive. He did not dispute the "phenomenal" nature of 
sense deliverances, but endeavored to supplement their defective results 
with the insights of higher faculties. He was thoroughly saturated 
with both the metaphysics and the psychology of previous schools, 
and felt the force of sceptical difficulties so strongly that his whole 
elaborate philosophy was written to combat them and to provide an 
answer to the questions raised by them. In doing this he succeeded 
in completely arresting the development of scepticisin until its later 
revival when Greek civilization was on the way to the grave. The 
breadth and depth of his thought, the charm of his style, and the com- 
pass of his genius, as well as those social needs which defy all scep- 
ticism except that of a reforming kind, were too impressive to permit 
even the witty and disputatious Greeks to waste their energies in intel- 
lectual paradoxes and laborious trifles. Consequently, Plato made an 
effectual and more or less successful attempt to keep back the tide of 
scepticism, which, though it suggested the modern distinction between 
the subjective and objective, was not strong enough to destroy the 
fundamental assumption of antiquity, namely, the identity between 
" thought" and " reality." 

Plato's system has been called Idealism, but there can hardly be a 
more misleading conception of it than is conveyed by this term. The 
initiated understand it, and defined to suit the case there can be no 
objection to this description of it. But the term "idealism" is so 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

infected with the subjective implications of the psychological point of 
view and modern assumptions couched in the same language that the 
reader is certain to obtain a totally false conception of Plato's philos- 
ophy so described. Intellectualism as opposed to sensationalism, 
metaphysically defined, would more nearly define his doctrine, as it 
insisted upon assigning to the higher functions of the mind the duty of 
determining truth and the nature of " reality." We could just as well 
call his system " realism " as " idealism," since the very conception of 
his " idea" was that of the " real," no matter what definition we give 
either one of them. But the essential thing to know and recognize is 
the simple fact that the ordinary translation of his language will give 
us no true conception of his philosophy. The opposition -which de- 
fined the fundamental controversies in the earlier metaphysics and cos- 
mology was that between the " one " and the " many," by which was 
meant the question whether the absolute was single or plural, whether 
monism or pluralism was true, whether monism or atomism represented 
the nature of things. The opposition, w^hich was not worked out, and 
which defined the position of the Sophists, was that between subjective 
and objective. But with Plato this opposition, absorbing all others, was 
that between the transient and permanent, the ephemeral and the eter- 
nal. His psychology did not affect this position. As between mind 
and matter, psychology and metaphysics, his doctrine was the same 
for both. Plato remained true to the general monistic traditions of 
Greece. He never supposed that the internal and external worlds were 
different in kind. It might even be maintained that he did not distin- 
guish in kind between the transient and the permanent but only in 
■values. It was around the central fact of change that his whole phi- 
losophy turned, as Lotze says all metaphysical inquiries must turn. 
He probably would have agreed with Lucretius that " motion " is eter- 
nal. He was possibly not aware, or only half aware of the equivoca- 
tion in the Greek term y.v^-qai'^. This generally did service for the ideas 
of motion and change in inodern parlance. He admitted the " becom- 
ing," change, progress, evolution of Heraclltus, but with It he saw, or 
thought he saw, something permanent or eternal which was thus not 
subject to the law of change. He might call It " substance,'' 
" essence," " being," " idea," " form," but It was still an activity of 
some kind. Hence he could well apply his term " idea," as we cannot 
after Locklan usage, to both the mental and material, to the " univer- 
sal " whether in consciousness or out of It. The antithesis between 
subjective and objective was not recognized by him. The nature of 
the sovil and of the world was the same. It would make no difference 



6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

whether we called it matter or spirit. One was only a finer aspect or 
kind of the other, just as it was in Lucretius. The two men appear 
to have differed on the question of the " immortality of the soul," but 
in reality they agreed. Their difference was in their definition and 
conception of the term "soul." Plato no more believed \n personal 
immortality than did Lucretius. It was the " substance " of the " soul '' 
that Plato thought imperishable, and so did Lucretius. It was the 
"form" of the "soul" that Lucretius thought perishable, and so 
thought Plato, the meaning of "form" having changed its character 
between the two philosophies. Both were monistic in regard to the 
questions of matter and mind. Mind was not regarded as immaterial, 
but only as supersensible. Even the elemental physical universe was 
supersensible. Hence when it caine to his psycholog}^ Plato had 
not to reckon with an opposition between consciousness and " reality " 
or an external world, for they were essentially identical in kind. He 
had only to discover the faculty which revealed to us the permanent 
as distinct from the transient. The Theeetetus discusses whether this 
faculty is sense perception, memory, reason, or intuition, and leaves 
the question undecided except that someho^v the mind actually obtains 
a knowledge of this permanent nature of things mental and material. 
In fact "knowledge" becomes a term expressive of this fact, rather 
than a word for what we should call " function " of brain or soul. It 
was an activity, but it was also an activity identical in kind ^vith the 
thing known. We might express it by saying that consciousness was 
the transmitted activity of the external world into the- mind or subject, 
the " moment" of transition from the external to the internal world. 
The billiard ball but receives the motion of the cue and retains it as 
its own activity until imparted to another. Consciousness with Plato 
is thus but the transformed " motion" of the external world and it is 
only its meaning that is permanent, while its kind or its nature is the 
same as that which produces it, nameh^, the activity of the physical 
world. "Knowing" and "being" are identical. The modern an- 
tithesis, outside' the Hegelian systein, between "knowledge" and 
"reality" is not known. They are identical. The only opposition 
recognized is between the changeable and the permanent, the " phe- 
nomenal "and the " noumenal," and the " phenomenal " is not con- 
fined to the external world, but applies equally to one part of the 
internal world, namely that of sensation. In fact, it ^vould be better 
to say that sensation and the sensible world were the same in kind, 
namely, " phenomenal," while the supersensible world both phvsical 
and mental is the same in kind. The opposition is not between the 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

internal and external, but between two aspects of both. The super- 
sensible material world is the " object," as ^ve should say, of " intui- 
tive knowledge," but as Plato would possibly say, the " reflection" of 
the mind, an expression of the same nature. 

It is thus apparent that Plato opposed scepticism, not as a doctrine 
wholly without foundation, but as one not expressing the ultimate 
nature of things. Heraclitus and the Sophists were simply one sided. 
They had a half truth which Plato regarded as worse than no truth at 
all. He answered it by supplementing it. He accepted its conception 
of sensation, but he added to it a conception of reason ^vhich the logic 
of scepticism implicitly recognized, but which the sceptic personally 
never saw. He did not regard sense as wholly given over to illusion. 
It, too, had a meaning for " reality," namely the source of our " knowl- 
edge " of change. He regarded it as illusory only wdien taken as 
giving the ultimate nature of things, but not illusory as expressing or 
giving the phenomenal side of " reality." In one point he failed. 
He never adequately connected the two asj^ects of his system. Modern 
thought does it by making the higher functions of mind depend chrono- 
logically, and perhaps " causally," upon the sensory. This we effect 
by saying that all " knowledge " depends on sensation though it is not 
constituted by sensation. But Plato recognized no such relation. 
Here he exhibited what is called his irresolvable dualism. The func- 
tions of sense and intellect were independent of each other, possessed 
no reciprocity of action, had no common object and could in no intel- 
ligible way unite the " phenomenal" and " real," that is, the sensible 
and the supersensible worlds. 

The Stoics and Epicureans supplied what Plato omitted. They 
superimposed intellectual functions, or reason, upon the data of sense, 
and in this way gave some unity to the nature of both thought and 
things. Sense became the medium for all knowledge and intellect was 
only the final court of appeal, or the one determinant of it attending 
sensation. Thus sense came to stand betvv^een what it transmitted and 
what reason adjudged. Thus " experience " in some sense of the term 
was the "origin "of " knowledge," the primary criterion or source 
of what we " know." The two schools were still monistic in their 
philosophy and psychology, the Epicurean even in his atomism. After 
them scepticism tried to revive its fortunes in the doctrines of Antis- 
thenes and Pyrrho, and belief its fortunes in the last and despairing 
systems of Neo-Platonism, both of which discredited, or sought to 
discredit, sensory experience. But the more sober and scientific con- 
ception of philosophical and psychological problems was found in the 



b THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Stoics and Epicureans after Plato, and whatever view they took of 
sense perception in relation to its object they but followed the correc- 
tion which was instituted by Aristotle in the Platonic psycholog}-, and 
this was to give sense perception a primary rather than a secondary 
place in the origin of knowledge. All the rest remains practically the 
same as Plato's doctrine in its essential meaning. 

When it comes to summarizing the conceptions of Greek thought 
in the doctrines of " knowledge" and " reality," it will be found that, 
in spite of a few deviations from the general rule regarding sense per- 
cejDtion or " experience," as with the Eleatics and Plato, also even 
Heraclitus, the Greek mind assigned sense perception the primary 
place in the functions of " knowledge." The main discussions cen- 
tered about the question as to what this function decided regarding 
"reality." It was not primarily interested in the psychological proc- 
ess, tliat is epistemological problems, by w^hich a knowledge of 
things was gained, but in what the nature of things consisted. All its 
interests in psychology were subordinated to this one end. Its genius 
was essentially metaphysical. In this it began and ended in the 
assumption that the internal and external worlds were the same in kind. 
Its thinking was governed by the principle of identity. Causality, as 
we usually conceive it, had a secondary place, indeed \vas hardly 
recognized at all. It obtained a slight notice in the love and hate of 
Empedocles, in the " moving cause " of Plato, and the " prime mover" 
of Aristotle, a cause, however, which once set the universe to moving 
and then sat outside it idle watching it go. It ^vas the sense of unity 
or identity that dominated the Greek consciousness, as this was its first 
great discovery in the contemplation of nature which the unreflective 
mind had supposed to be more chaotic than it really was. It was 
this instinct or tendency that prevented it from becoming dualistic. It 
might admit a supersensible \vorld, as it did, but it would not admit 
anything superphysical or immaterial. Its very notion of a cosmos 
was unity of kind, while to us with changed points of view this ex- 
presses nothing more than order, a teleological, not necessarily an 
ontological unity. Psychology and epistemology were interesting only 
as thev aided in the determination of this result. All its investigations 
and all its terminology had a direct or indirect, a nearer or remoter 
relatioii to the question of the transient or eternal. The " absolute" 
and the " relative," the " phenomenal " and the " real," " being " and 
" becoming," " knowledge " and " sensation " when applied to Greek 
conceptions of fundamental problems had no interest primarily, if at 
all, in the antitheses between the subjective and objective, but only in 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

that between the ephemeral and the eternal. Its problems were phys- 
ical or metaphysical, not psychological or cognitive, and so concerned 
what was permanent. The Epicureans thought that only the primary 
elements were permanent, Plato thought that also certain finer activ- 
ities of their compounds were continued in the metamorphic changes of 
nature while admitting the eternity of all substance, although this w^as 
conceived in somewhat the same form as the modern doctrine of the 
conservation of energy. But everywhere the issues centered in what 
was eternal and what was transient. 

The momentum and influence of this tendency was not lost in 
Christianity. It survived in the doctrine of the immortality of the soul 
and the transient nature of the physical order. The physical universe 
was conceived as the creation of a divine being and subject entirely to 
his will and this had decreed that it should be destroyed. The soul of 
man, though it w^as created, was made imperishable, at least upon cer- 
tain moral conditions. But in general we have the conceptions of 
Plato and Neo-Platonists affecting the whole period of Christian de- 
velopment. Plato had depreciated the sensory world and the Neo- 
Platonists had carried this so far as to describe the " real" world as 
the negation of all that was " known " as sensory or mental. It placed 
the supreme interest of man in something wholly transcendental. 
Christianity accepted this conception and concentrated all moral inter- 
ests in such a world beyond sense and made the individual soul imper- 
ishable. A transcendental world of " reality," spiritual in nature, 
w^hatever that w^as or meant, beyond both the sensible and supersen- 
sible physical worlds, became now an object of belief. It w^as the 
negation of all that was supposed of the material world, whether sen- 
sible or supersensible, and so was called immaterial. In the contro- 
versy with Greek thought at the time, which was inevitable, it became 
a question as to how^ such a world was known. The Greek had been 
accustomed to ask for the reasons which justified a belief, and he called 
these reasons " knowledge." It was not enough that a fact should be 
asserted to exist. He must have proof. He must have some certitude 
that the alleged fact was founded in experience. He w^as accustomed 
to insist that whatever was " known " or believable was attested by its 
phenomenal appearance in the physical world, and hence by some 
sensory experience, or perhaps by some regular law of " nature." He 
consistently applied this view of things to his supersensible physical 
world and exacted of all assertions the same criterion. Hence when 
the existence of an immaterial soul, of divine incarnation, of miracles, 
of personal existence after death, of a personal God were asserted he 



lO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

naturally enough put them to the test of experience and reason. 
Christian thought readily enough accepted the Greek conception of 
" knowledge" as applied to the physical world and originating in sen- 
sory experience, and so placed its beliefs on grounds other than 
" knowledge." It set up a new organon of belief which it called 
faith. We must remember, however, that at first this " faith" was 
not an intellectual process, a faculty of knowing or perceiving, or an 
assent to propositions, whatever it became afterward. It was at first 
a name for a certain quality of will, fidelity to a person or principle of 
action. This was its original meaning in more languages than one, in 
Greek, Roman, and especially in Hebrew. " Faithfulness " expressed 
its proper meaning originally. But the existence of a large number of 
alleged facts like the resurrection, the incarnation, life after death, 
miracles, etc., show^ed that ideas and convictions were as essential a 
part of Christianity as action and its social scheme of practical moral- 
ity. It was this body of alleged facts w'hich brought it into contro- 
versy with Greek modes of speculation and required it to assign some 
canon of evidence for the fundamental beliefs on wdiich it founded its 
transcendental w^orld in which it concentrated all its interests, after its 
immediate social scheme came to an end. Having admitted that 
' ' knowledge " was of this world it gradually substituted an intellec- 
tual meaning for the old one expressed by '^ faith " and set it up as an 
organon for beliefs beyond the reach of " knowledge " as either a sen- 
sor}^ or rational process. Thus, " faith" became a name for an assent 
to truths rather than a quality of will. The Christian would admit 
that his doctrines w^ere not an object of reason and he simplv estab- 
lished a change of venue in the controversy by insisting that there was 
another and higher court of conviction than human experience in the 
sensor}^ and rational world. 

There \vas here a sort of double dualism like that of Plato, We 
saw that Plato found the antithesis between "phenomena" and 
" reality " to hold true for both the internal and the external worlds. 
The dualism of one was parallel to that in the other, though the antith- 
esis was the same in both. But in Christian thought the dualism 
between the material and the spiritual worlds was not alwavs ex- 
pressed in the same terms as that between the two functions of the 
internal world. In one it was the dualism between matter and spirit 
and the other the dualism between knowledge and faith. The material 
world was the object of " knowledge," the spiritual world the object 
of " faith." But various influences, some of them the result of 
natural human instincts and experience with the practical problems of 



INTRODUCTION. 1 1 

life, and some of them the effect of philosophic traditions, conspired 
to raise the question whether faith could provide the certitude which 
seemed so necessary if the issues defined by religion were so serious as 
the doctrine of salvation implied. This state of matters at once 
started a discussion of the relative claims of faith and reason, " knowl- 
edge " coming to mean certitude of conviction in regard to any object 
of consciousness rather than conceptions of experience. There was 
latent in it the whole question of the relative values of the religious 
and the secular life, but the apparent controversy turned about the 
question whether reason could certify the existence of the transcendental 
objects of faith and give them the certitude which, in the secular life, 
was the necessary or accepted justification for action. That is, would 
reason adequately support the existence of God, immortality, the in- 
carnation, the resurrection, miracles, the atonement and the whole 
body of religious doctrine to make them effective and as obligatory to 
consciousness as " natural knowledge " ? In the process of the dispute 
the very nature of the points of issue soon subordinated all the minor 
questions to the two general ones regarding the existence of God and 
the immortality of the soul. The controversy waged w^ith varying 
fortunes for reason and faith until reason finally conquered. The dis- 
cussion between nominalism and realism with the victory for the 
former revived the subjective or psychological conception of " knowl- 
edge," so that, "with the revival of learning, it prepared the w^ay for 
the philosophy of Descartes. It of course took centuries to effect this 
result, but the outcome was simply the natural consequence of the 
struggle between the unsatisfactory dualism of Christian thought and 
the essentially monistic influence of Greek speculation which still 
affected thought wherever it had the fortune to touch it. All but the 
two main problems were gradually relegated to theology and lost an 
interest for philosophy, as they were contingent upon the proof of the 
first two regarding the existence of God and the soul of man. 

Descartes came at the junction of several intellectual movements. 
The old astronomy had been shattered. The Renaissance had rein- 
stated an interest in ancient literature and philosophy. Nominalism 
had given a subjective impulse to ideas. The whole system of Scholas- 
ticism was discredited. The New World had been discovered and 
had begun to excite the imagination of men. Physical science had 
arisen and diverted human interest into things terrestrial as religious 
thought had confined it to things transcendental. The consequence 
was that Descartes took up the work of adjusting the claims between 
scepticism and faith. He accepted and defined more clearly than ever 



12 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the metaphysical dualism of Christianity in regard to the nature of 
matter and mind, but he returned to a psychological monism in his 
conception of the ultimate functions attesting man's knowledge. He 
took a position which defined for all subsequent thought the funda- 
mental antithesis between the subjective and objective, whatever that 
may mean, and reinstated the psychological or anthropological, or 
perhaps better the anthropocentric, point of view in speculation on all 
the great questions of philosophy. His metaphysical dualism, owing 
to certain definitions in his system and to the natural instinct for unity 
in the philosophic mind, easily passed into the metaphysical monism 
of Spinoza. But this is not the chief interest of his influence. The 
fundamental distrust of sense perception with which he started and the 
final reliance on " consciousness" which, both from its conception as 
a function of the soul and as definitely excluded from the nature of 
external reality or matter, became a purely subjective fact and criterion 
of " knowledge," gave rise to the controversy between realism and 
idealism where, before, it had been between materialism and spiritualism. 
Ancient thought, as we have seen, accepted no opposition betw-een the 
nature of the internal and the nature of the external worlds until 
Christian thought defined their relation. What may be called the 
" identity between thought and reality " was the fundamental postulate 
of Greek speculation in its best estate. The influence of Christo- 
Cartesian thought was to establish an antithesis where ancient specula- 
tion accepted an identity. Mind and matter w^ere so separated that no 
reciprocity or interaction became possible. In Greek thought the 
assumed identity of "■ knowing" and " being" prevented all difficulties 
suggested by the modern question, " How can the mind know external 
reality ? " But when Cartesian philosophy proposes to shut the mind 
vip in itself, and while making consciousness the final court of truth 
also makes it a purely subjective fact, it suggests or produces an an- 
tithesis between subject and object which reinstates all the scepticism 
of the Sophistic schools and later Academy. Consciousness, at least of 
the sensory type, could either not attest the existence of an external 
" reality " or it could not represent its " nature." The mind was shut 
up to itself for " knowledge." Its own states were all that it could 
"know," assuming still that "knowledge" and " being " were the 
same, though refusing to apply the postulate to external " reality." 

Locke, Berkeley, Hume and Kant simply take'^up this cue and 
variously follow it out to its logical consequences. Locke let slip the 
remark that " simple ideas," which w^ere given in sensation were 
"real "and that " complex ideas," which were the product of the 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

^' understanding" were "fictitious." Among these " complex ideas" 
were those of " cause," God and the soul. This simply opened wide 
the door to scepticism, which, of course, was fully enough suggested 
by the subjective tendency in psychology in the field of sensation. 
Still Locke believed in both mind and matter. But Berkeley, taking 
the subjective conception of sensation more seriously denied the exist- 
ence of " matter" and admitted only that of " spirit." Hume, with 
some sense of humor and sceptical mischief in his nature, put Locke 
and Berkeley together and asked for the evidence for both matter and 
spirit, and made himself content with phenomenalism. Kant started 
to refute Hume, denied his premises and accepted his conclusion. 
Philosophy had before him embraced all the great problems of human 
reflection, but had gradually dropped those which it was willing to 
leave to religion proper, as either not interested in them or as con- 
tingent on more general conceptions, and retained as its final claim the 
adjudication of belief in the existence of God, immortality and freedom. 
Kant after indicating that philosophy had, like Hecuba, to mourn for 
the loss of her children, proceeded to rob it of the last excuse for its 
existence, and though he tried to pacify religion by bringing in at the 
back door v\^hat he had thrown out at the front door, he attained noth- 
ing more definite than the phenomenalism of Hume. 

It is not necessary to trace in detail the general principles of these 
three men between Descartes and Kant. In so far as the main prob- 
lems of philosophy are concerned they show only different degrees of 
the same tendency. They have the same starting point, namely, the 
subjective character of consciousness and the limitation of " knowl- 
edge " to its data. Descartes did not seriously question the existence 
of the external world when he put the hypothetical query about the 
trustworthiness of sensation. He showed that this was only a method 
of indicating that the final court of adjudication was the higher re- 
flective consciousness vs^hich included " reason" and its functions. In 
spite of his apparent scepticism of sense perception he still accepts its 
importance in the derivation of " knowledge." Locke does the same. 
But Berkeley applies the dicta of scepticism with full force to the 
judgments of sense, but is too orthodox in theology to see the appli- 
cation of the same assumptions to " spirit." Hume simply applies 
the logical knife to Berkeley's idealism and leaves to "knowledge" 
nothing but sensations, the fleeting transient phenomena of mind. 
Kant does the same, but expresses himself in a terminology that is 
well calculated to deceive the ordinary philosopher and theologian. 
He is emphatic in his assertion of the purely phenomenal nature of 



14 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

^'knowledge," the non-provable nature of the three main problems of 
metaphysics, agnosticism in regard to " things in themselves," and the 
"subjectivity" of things in general. Whatever he may be supposed 
to have meant by his doctrine of time and space, he effectually installed 
scepticism in the discussions of all questions affected by sense percep- 
tion. The whole transcendental world of "things in themselves" 
represented what was entirely " unknown" and " unknowable." Its 
existence was admitted as a fact, but the belief of it was left unjusti- 
fied. In his earliest conception of it he assumed that it acted causally 
on the mind but in spite of this was still "unknown." Later he 
withdrew the statements in which this causal action was admitted or 
asserted and left the existence of " things in themselves " unsupported 
by any evidence in fact or reason. " Phenomena " were all that could 
be " known." Following the Cartesian assumptions about " con- 
sciousness " and the Leibnitzian assumption denying all reciprocity or 
interaction between the monads, between mind and matter, unless we 
accept the " receptivity " of sense, and thus denying the possibility of 
"knowing" the transcendental " reality," Kant thus defined by indi- 
rection what he meant by " knowledge," namely, phenomena of con- 
sciousness. "Knowing" was having a fact in consciousness, or 
simply unifying it with other similar facts. That " knowing" should 
be such a thing as " perceiving" an object not in consciousness at all, 
or affirming with certitude and unqualified right to believe the existence 
of any "reality" transcending sensation, if fact and the inalterable 
laws of thought necessitated it, seems not to have entered his mind, at 
least in so far as his manner of expression is concerned. " Knowl- 
edge " was simply having facts of consciousness and systemizing them 
and their relations in terms of the " categories," whose functions as 
laws of thought never availed to enable Kant to solve any of the 
sceptical problems elicited by the asserted phenomenality of experi- 
ence. Those problems seein to have been largely misconceived, 
and the logical distinctions adopted for discussing them only ob- 
scured the issues or indicated a position in which it was impossible to 
decide on which side of a question Kant really was. There is no 
adequate definition and explanation of fundamental concepts, such as 
phenomenon (Erscheinung), intuition ( Anschauung) , experience 
( Erf ahrung), knowledge (Erkenntniss) , perception ( Wahrnehmung) , 
conception (Begriff), form and matter (Form and Materie) and a host 
of others. He uses no illustrations of fact whatever, except the one 
famous instance of the boat sailing down stream, and the bullet on the 
pillow. On the issues of realism and idealism he is not intelligible, as 



INTRODUCTION. 1 5 

lie seems not to know even what they were and are. On the whole 
the entire movement which he initiated seems to have had no clear 
message whatever for philosophy. It had finally eliminated the last 
three problems which were supposed to constitute the field of meta- 
physics, and with them the whole transcendental world, the superphysi- 
cal world of antiquity, and then tried to juggle with the concept of 
" metaphysics " without adjusting itself to science when in fact its pro- 
cedure had left no other legitimate field of interest. It became so 
enamored of " phenomena of consciousness " that it could not devote 
itself to science, and its agnosticism on God, Immortality and Freedom 
made it impossible to satisfy religion by any discussion of its philo- 
sophic problems. The consequence is that it -wanders about in a 
maudlin intermundia between science and religion, using an orthodox 
language with a heterodox content on every question where intelligible 
speech is a duty and a necessity. 

This characterization does not deny the fact that, when interpreted 
in intelligible terms, this modern idealistic tendency initiated by Kant 
and his school is profoundly true in its essential conceptions. But its 
truth needs to be expressed in the vernacular which will give it the 
currency and power which philosophy is capable of possessing and 
which is due its claims as the legatee of the highest knowledge. All 
that I wish to indicate by complaint and criticism against its obscur- 
ities and evasions is that its equivocal position on the fundamental 
problems of human thought and its indifference to science and scien- 
tific method deprives it of the heritage to which it lay so persistent a 
claim. It should recognize the extremely complicated nature of the 
general conceptions with which it deals and endeavor to first give them 
the analysis and definition Avhich are the primary requisites to a clear 
understanding of its discussions and attitude on the issues which the 
mental and moral problems of the age force upon it. It is not enough 
to acclaim idealism and repudiate realism, or even to reconcile them. 
These conceptions are both of them charged with too large a history 
and represent too general abstractions to be self-interpreting. They 
embody relations to many distinct problems, each of them as equivocal 
and complex as the doctrines which they are supposed to elucidate. 
Hence we cannot take for granted that we are making progress by 
simply repeating the shibboleths of any particular theory without 
studying its incidents and relations to the practical and intellectual 
problems of the age. A theory has value in proportion to its ability 
to explicate minutiae of human life as well as describe in abstract out- 
lines the general movement of thought. 



1 6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Let us summarize the result of this introductory analysis. It can 
be done by briefly characterizing the different stages of human reflec- 
tion. The three stages into which we have divided the history that 
has passed under review had their various problems and interests. 
The ethical and religious questions were integral elements of their 
speculations, even though the primary- impulse was purely scientific or 
philosophical. The various interests of life are so articulated that 
knowledge in any one department of inquiry inevitably influences all 
others in some degree. Ancient thought began its speculations in cos- 
mological questions. These concerned the " origin " of the visible 
and tangible world. It was not the " origin" of it by any process of 
creation, but its " origin " from elements. Existence as it was known 
was conceived as a compovuid made up of simple elements. Efficient 
causes were not the primary object of inquiry, but mainly material 
causes. The conclusion of the philosopher was that the sensible world 
was made out of supersensible elements, but still of matter the same in 
kind as its compounds. It affected the religious consciousness only when 
it developed into the denial of the immortality of the soul, as in Epicu- 
reanism, which in this issue defined the controversy between Greek and 
Christian thought in its metaphysical aspects. But on its psychologi- 
cal and ethical sides the controversy in Greek thought \vas between 
sensationalism and intellectualism, between the sensuous and the con- 
templative life, between vulgarity and culture. In Christian periods 
this antithesis was expressed in the opposition between the carnal and 
the spiritual life. In modern thought, after having eliminated the 
problems of metaphysics as understood in mediaeval thought and hav- 
ing concentrated interest on the psychological and epistemological issues 
the controversy turns about the relative ethical values of sensor}' and 
intellectual objects again. Consequently \ve may summarily char- 
acterize the general movements of the different periods in the follow- 
ing manner. Greek thought was governed by an ethical moti\'e Avhen 
it was not occupied with cosmological questions and represented the 
opposition between sensationalism and intellectualism. Christian 
thought was primarilv governed by the metaphvsical question as a 
condition of the ethical and religious, and represented the antithesis 
between materialism and spiritualism. Modern thought having rele- 
gated metaphysics into the limbo of the unknown represents the con- 
troversy between realism and idealism. This does not coincide exactly 
with either of the others in its appearance, although advocates of one 
side love to make us believe that it is more or less a combination of the 
two movements in one. The idealist tries to make us believe that his 



INTR OD UC TION. 1 7 

position is opposed to materialism, but he assumes the coincidence and 
identity of sensationalism and materialism which is neither historically 
nor philosophically true. Idealism had its origin in epistemological 
considerations, and so did realism. Materialism had its origin in 
metaphysical questions and so did spiritualism. One concerns the 
problems of " knowledge," the other the problems of " reality." One 
asks how I " know reality," the other what is the " nature of reality." 
Hence I must insist that, if there is any relation bet"ween modern and 
ancient thought in the antitheses that I have indicated, it is the appar- 
ent connection at least between the problem of realism and idealism 
and that between sensationalism and intellectualism. They at least 
partly coincide. But as I am not interested in defining their relation 
in detail, but only in expressing the differences between their motives, 
both of which were ethical rather than metaphysical, while that of 
reflective Christianity was primarily metaphysical and then ethical, I 
may pass by all other questions in the comparison. We see then that 
each intellectual movement had its own distinctive way of conceiving 
its problems and interests corresponding to them. 



CHAPTER II. 
GENERAL PROBLEMS OF SCIENXE AND PHILOSOPHY.' 

Ancient thought made no distinction between science and philos- 
ophy. They were regarded as the same, and it is only the gradually 
developed difference of their fields at their outer limits that has enabled 
us to distinguish them to-day. For there is a point at which they more 
or less interpenetrate. But as philosophy, consen-ative of its traditions, 
is either mainly reflective, speculative and critical, or receives its pri- 
mary impulse from the study of mental phenomena, while science is 
more generally associated with the study of physical nature, the con- 
ception of the two inquiries is affected by these considerations. But 
whether their differences are of method, of field, or of attitude on the 
various problems of human interest, they are so articulated that a com- 
prehensive view of intellectual problems is impossible without exhibit- 
ing their interrelations. They are both of them attempts to ascertain the 
rationale of things and hence proceed on the same general lines. Their 
problems may not always coincide, but their principles are the same. 
Hence we may well link them together in the endeavor to elucidate 
the questions that excite human curiosity. 

The primary impulse to human inquiry is the desire to have the 
" explanation " of a fact. " Explanation " may be an equivocal term, 
as it undoubtedly is, and may involve various expedients or alternative 
ways of looking at facts in order to satisfy curiosity, but in all of its 
meanings it comprehends the conception of some other fact, real or 
supposed, that enables us to accept the first as a matter of course and 
that removes our fear, our wonder, our confusion or our suspicion of 
irregularity in the occurrence of events. " Explanation," however, in its 
full extension, comprehends variously the satisfaction of the demand for 
the " law," the " cause," the " nature," and the " purpose " of events. 

' A part of this chapter is a revision of an article published on the same sub- 
ject in the Philosophical Revieiv, Vol. XII., p. 3S6. I have made some changes, 
but none that are important except in the case of the terms (Etiological and 
noumc7iological. I have simply interchanged these terms, using in this book 
"etiological" where I had used " noumenological " in the article, and vice 
versa. I have not changed the conceptions involved, but only the terms for 
denominating them, as I thought the present usage was truer to historical ideas 
and would thus represent the discussion in a clearer light. 

iS 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY 19 

There arises in connection with inquiries to satisfy these demands the 
further question regarding the grounds or reasons for belief in any of 
these matters, including the processes by which belief is effected. 
This may be called the problem of " knowledge " as distinct from that 
of the things known or believed. There are thus four general prob- 
lems in science and philosophy, or human inquiry. They are prompted 
by the corresponding questions regarding any event or thing, " What 
causes it?" *■' What is it?" " Why is it?" and " How do we know it?" 
I use the term " why " here to indicate the question regarding the pur- 
pose of a fact. It is no doubt elastic enough to involve an inquiry for 
the cause and the nature of facts as well as their purpose, but for the 
sake of brevity in stating the questions I limit its import for the present 
to the one problem. I may classify them as follows : 

{Ratio essendi. Material cause. Constitution. Nature. 

Ratio fiendi. Efficient cause. Producer. Agent. 

Ratio agendi. Final cause. Purpose. End. 

Ratio cognoscendi. Logical cause. Evidence. Reason. 

All of these are various forms of " explanation." But they repre- 
sent different intellectual interests. The ratio essendi indicates what 
an event or thing zV,and this is usually done either by explicitly stating 
its qualities or classifying it, which is a way of implicitly indicating 
its qualities. In Greek speculation, however, it would not always take 
this form, but would be an assignment of a thing's composition. A 
thing would be what it was made of, the elements of which it was 
composed. This way of viewing a reality would characterize every 
stage of thought which endeavored to determine the nature of reality 
b)y referring to its component elements. But classification must rely, 
upon the qualities which define and distinguish things and so all re- 
flection that unifies phenomena and things by classification must express 
the " material " cause or nature of events or things by their qualities, 
which constitute them, not necessarily as elements after atomic anal- 
ogies, but as characteristics which indicate what their " nature" is. 
We may assume, however, that either alternative for determining the 
*' nature" of a thing is permissible, composition or comparison, ac- 
cording to the way in which we wish to view phenomena and things. 
We may wish to inquire into the composition of realities where we 
suppose that the complex wholes are the same in essential properties 
as the elements, or we may wish to engage in comparison of realities 
where "nature" is convertible with qualities possessed or not pos- 
sessed rather than elements in composition. Hence the ratio essendi 



20 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of modern thought may apply to the determination of properties instead 
of elements. The ratio Jiendi is the active or initiating cause of things 
or events. It represents any fact or thing which is supposed to initiate 
change, whether it be the movement of a simple element in space or 
time, or the arrangement of elements to form a composite or organic 
whole, a cosmos. It answers the question demanding the knowledge 
of what it is that initiates or produces any complex and organic indi- 
vidual, or any change in the action of either simple or composite indi- 
viduals. The ratio agendi explains itself as the purpose of things or 
events, the end toward which any fact or system of facts tends to move. 
The ratio cognoscendi is a little unique in the fact that it is not wholly 
distinct from the other three rationes^ at least in respect of the subject 
matter with which it deals. It is the term for what I shall call scien- 
tijic method.^ or the process by which conviction is established in regard 
to conclusions in any field of inquiry, whether it regard the facts which 
demand the various causes in explanation of them, or the evidence of 
the causes themselves. It therefore represents the evidential aspect 
of every problem before speculation, and hence is specifically the epis- 
temological problem. It covers the field of conviction and not that of 
explanation. It does not offer a ground for the existence of events 
and things, but only of knowledge and belief regarding them and their 
causes. 

In dealing with these various problems I have assumed that the 
facts on which the demand for explanation is based are known or ac- 
cepted as given. I have not assumed that there is any problem re- 
garding their existence. It is true, however, that certain " facts" are 
as much the result of inquiry as are explanations. But the inquiry in 
regard to the existence of " facts," by which I mean to include eve?zts 
and things., is regulated by the ratio cognoscendi alone. This is pre- 
liminary to asking any other question about them, the answer to which 
involves the evidential as well as the explanatory' method. But pass- 
ing all minor questions aside, prior to matters of explanation and fol- 
lowing the problem of mere " facts " as unrelated objects of observa- 
tion there is another problem of some importance which is associated 
very closely with the simple occurrence of " facts." It is the laTv of 
events or things. We are not satisfied with the mere occurrence of 
events or phenomena, but we seek to know the lazv of that occurrence. 
This term " law" is variouslv interpreted. Sometimes it refers to the 
" conditions " of an event's occurrence. Now " conditions " is a term 
that is equivocal. It mav denote either an active cause of events or the 
passive and invariable concomitant of them. In my own conception^ 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 21 

however, la-w does not properly express " conditions " of any kind, 
tut only regularity. The idea of causality, whether static or dynamic, 
has no right to association with it. It is but a name for the constancy 
of events or regular order, the viniformity of coexistence and sequence. 
This is a problem in science and philosophy quite as much as ex- 
planation. But it is not causal explanation of any kind. It is sub- 
ordinate and prior to this. Its place in the more complete classifica- 
tion of intellectual problems will be ascertained in the further analysis 
and discussion of the various questions involved in science and philos- 
ophy. It suffices to note at present that the uniformity of events is as 
much a matter of inquiry as the fact and causes of their occurrence. 

This general analysis of problems prepares us to give a more 
definite and somewhat different classification of them. As the ratio 
cognosce7idi problem is a general one, covering the question of con- 
viction in all others, it need not serve as a basis of any system of 
sciences, and consequently I shall determine the analysis of intellectual 
problems by the objects associated with the quest for truth, whether 
it be for events, for laws, for ideals or for causes. After this more 
definite delimitation of our problems we shall be prepared to take vip 
directly the definite questions of epistemology and metaphysics. 

The best way to delimit the questions which w^e have to consider 
is by means of what may be indifferently called a classification of the 
sciences or a classification of the problems of science and philosophy. 
I invoke both forins of expression because I w^ish to appropriate the 
ideas at the basis of both conceptions. That is, I am not classifying 
the sciences for the sake of the classification only, but because of the 
distinction of problems which I wish to make. Usually classifications 
have proceeded on the assumption of territorial distinctions, but I wish 
to include other considerations in the determination of their definition, 
and this distinction is the idea of problems as well as territory. In 
fact territory will be a subordinate matter of consideration. Objects 
to be attained are a better criterion of the distinctions involved in sci- 
entific and philosophical questions, though territory is often nothing 
more than a subterfuge for these. 

The circumstance which has prompted men generally to classify 
the sciences has been the discovery that they are in some way related 
to each other. For example, logic and psychology have both to do 
with mental phenomena. But one of them, logic, has a much nar- 
rower field than the other, psychology, and at the same time also has 
a different problem before itself. It has to do with the ratiocinative 
process and seeks to determine the laws of its validity, while psychol- 



2 2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ogy is not necessarily concerned with the validity of any mental acts, 
but may content itself with the determination of their laws and causes, 
while it also investigates more than the ratiocinative process and so 
will include perception, emotion and volition. Again sociology is in 
some way closely connected with history, economics and politics. 
Mechanics is often treated as a department of physics. Geology is 
generally assumed to be a branch of the same. Chemistry is some- 
times treated as coordinate with ^^hysics and sometimes as a division 
of it. Such relations suggest a hierarchy of sciences and have given 
rise to their classification. 

If I were concerned in the acceptance of some classifications and 
the rejection of others, it might be profitable to undertake a review of 
some of them, but as it is possible to assign at least a relative value to 
all consistent classifications it is not necessary to pursue an invidious 
task or to study the work of the past with a view to repudiating it. 
But I shall refer to two systems of classification, partly for the purpose 
of showing this relative justification and partly for appropriating the 
general principles at the basis of both of them. They are the classifi- 
cations of Comte and Spencer. 

Cointe's system may be called the serial method of classifying the 
sciences because it vs^as not his purpose to represent them in the rela- 
tion of genus and species, but to conceive some of them in a relation 
of dependence upon others. He did not attempt any complete and 
exhaustive consideration of the special fields of human inquiry. He 
confined himself to the more general sciences and their relation to the 
problems which mainly occupied his mind as a student of politics or 
sociology, omitting those w^hich had originated and sustained a phil- 
osophic interest. After recognizing the two fields of phenomena, 
organic and inorganic, he adopts the following as the order of relation 
between the general sciences : mathematics, astronomy, physics, 
chemistry, physiology, and social physics (sociology) . He makes 
also the distinction between the abstract and concrete sciences which 
Spencer afterward adopts, but he does not iiiake the use of it which 
Spencer finds appropriate. It is interesting to remark, however, that 
Comte, for obvious reasons, makes no mention of philosophy, meta- 
physics, or psycholog}^ He conceived these as pseudo-scientific and 
would recognize nothing but what he regarded as legitimate fields of 
inquiry, he himself being the sole judge of what man should study. 
But in thus excluding certain problems from consideration with which 
men have actually occupied themselves, and in not specifying problems 
within the limits of the sciences which he does recognize, he has given 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 23 

a very meager conception of the real interests of the human mind, 
legitimate or illegitimate, though the serial method of viewing the 
relations of the sciences is a most fruitful conception and capable of 
useful application. It shows both a kind of dependence of one science 
upon another and an incremental result in the dependent science which 
is important for attaining some idea of the progressive complexity of 
nature and knowledge. 

Spencer adopts what may be called the logical method of classi- 
fication. It is a division of the sciences into genus and species, and 
applies the principle of territory, in the main at least, as the ground 
of distinction between them. His classification is carried out with 
reasonable clearness and consistency in detail. It is far more ex- 
haustive of the fields of human inquiry than most efforts of the kind 
and for the purposes for which it was conceived is as useful as any 
other system. Accepting the fundamental principle of division, which 
is territory, and the distinction between abstract, concrete, and ab- 
stract-concrete sciences, I would have no special criticisms to make 
against the classification, as I have already recognized the relative 
value of any consistent system of classification, as judged by the pur- 
pose for which it is made. But I do not think that the fundamental 
distinction between abstract, concrete, and abstract-concrete expresses 
the real nature of the difference between the sciences in respect of the 
problems which they actually attack. This, I think, is apparent from 
the place occupied in it by logic and mathematics. Their classification 
as coordinate species ought to imply a closer relation in subject matter 
than actually exists. It is like classifying foods under the heads of 
" animal, vegetable, and animal-vegetable." This is all very possible, 
but does not indicate any truly scientific principle of distinction. 
Besides, we could as well put ethics under the head of "abstract" 
sciences as logic and mathematics. I think that it will be found that 
ethics is quite as formal a science as logic and when compared with 
the practical problems which it is expected to solve will appear quite 
as " abstract." Many will question Spencer's right to make sociology 
a subordinate division of psychology, as mental states are not pri- 
marily social phenomena at all. They simply happen to include these 
as a part of the class, so that it would be more rational to make 
sociology an incremental science. But I do not care to be punctilious, 
as I wish to recognize what Spencer rightly sees. It is the fact 
which Comte's serial classification observed, namely, that sociology 
depends on certain psychological functions and phenomena for its 
meanings. But he did not observe that, as actually studied, it deals 



24 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

also with a wholly distinct set of phenomena in the field of politics, 
history, and economics. If the meaning of sociology be determined 
by the principle of division adopted by Spencer, as it ought to be in 
the system, there would be less objection to its place assigned it, but 
the term would not have the meaning which students actually give it 
and which Spencer's own discussion of it in his Synthetic Philosophy 
assumed. Spencer's difficulty, and hence liability to objection, arose 
■out of his attempt to give a classification which would satisfy two in- 
compatible conditions at the same time, namely, an ideal and actual 
conception of the sciences. The manner in which the conception of 
the various sciences has developed prevents this from being accom- 
plished. One or the other alternative must be adhered to. The 
classification must be avowedly ideal or avowedly of the actual con- 
ception of the sciences and territorial and problematical considerations 
must not be confused. 

Now what I wish here to undertake is a combination of the objects 
indicated by the systems of Comte and Spencer, namely, a logical and 
serial classification of the sciences, or problems of human thought and 
action, in a manner that will recognize both territorial and relational 
facts at the same time. It will involve a complex system of connec- 
tions and distinctions which have, no doubt, operated in any other w^ay 
of looking at the question of classification to cause the real or apparent 
confusion of conception and definition. The important premisory 
remark, however, to be made at the outset, as a precaution against mis- 
understanding, is that the classification is based, not on any definite 
conception of the sciences as actually defined in general acceptance or 
usage, but on what the conceptions inust be as determined by the 
principle of devision adopted. I shall not attempt to define the sciences 
or to classify them as their territory is defined, but as it ought to be 
in an ideal system endeavoring to indicate what the problems have 
been in the abstract. At the same time, I mean to have no quarrel 
with the accepted import of the terms as they have been historically 
developed. These may be granted their rights and uses where it is 
impossible to regulate the tendencies of evolution arbitrarily in the in- 
terest of a personal theor}^ We may define our problems clearly and 
then allow human interests to carry on the discussion of them in their 
own way according to the actual complications of phenomena. Hence 
the classification, so far as mere terms are concerned, may be treated 
as false, \vhen ineasured by the actual conception of the sciences, or 
we may assume that actual definitions are wrong according to the ideal 
classification. I do not care which of these is done, if only the system 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 25 

succeeds in throwing light upon the problems of human intellect, 
either by suggesting their variation from the ideal of thought or by 
opening up a way to reconcile the controversies that have spent more 
time on definition than the philosophical and practical interests of men 
justify. 

I think we may reduce the fields of human reflective and active in- 
terest to three, in the widest acceptance of the terms. I shall call them 
the world of events^ the world of worths^ and the world of causes. 
This is, in expression at least, a slight modification of the division of 
Lotze, which was the world of facts., the world of laws., and the 
world of worths. The world of events which I have adopted for the 
first class of problems is coincident with Lotze's world of "facts," 
and I discard the term " facts," not because I have any objection to its 
Lotzian use, but because I wish to regard the world of " laws" as in- 
cluded in that of " facts " and to be subject to the same explanation as 
isolated " facts " or events. The very conception of " law " which 
was taken above indicates that it does not express anything but regu- 
larity of events and belongs to the same category of problems as un- 
systematized incidents. All three w^orlds as I conceive them are to be 
equally treated as " facts" in the wider sense of the term, and differ 
only in respect of the method of determining them or in respect to the 
tenacity of belief regarding them. The worlds of "worths" and 
" causes " explain themselves. 

In the first of the fields thus circumscribed we wish merely to 
ascertain what the " eyents " or occurrences are which we have to 
observe and systematize. I shall describe this field as the Phenomeno- 
logical problem. Explanation may be excluded from it, in fact, must 
be, as its object is only to determine the facts of existence. I shall 
subdivide this phenomenological field into two classes of subordinate 
problems, which I shall call the Ergological and the Nomological. I 
have been obliged to coin the word ' ergological ' for the purpose 
of distinguishing the question of the lazvs of events from the bare fact 
of their occurrence and unsystematic apprehension. I might have 
adopted the term ' pragmatological,' but, on the whole, seeing that 
the Greek term rd epya wa.s used to express facts, things done or doing, 
I decided for the former. It is intended to express the nature of the 
first problem of human interest, namely, the mere knowledge of the 
events which suggest, when known, the subsequent problems still to 
be considered. The nomological problem represents the demand for 
the laws of events, the systematic order of their occurrence, the deter- 
mination of the coexistences and sequences of phenomena, as distinct 



26 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

from their causes Superficially, phenomena may seem to occur with- 
out order, and hence that order has to be a quest whenever it is 
not apparent at first. Ergological and nomological problems, there- 
fore, represent tw^o distinct fields of inquiry which can be further con- 
sidered in the serial relation of the sciences occupied with them, 

I shall describe the world of wo7'ths as representing the ideological 
problem. By this I mean the general field of ideals. The origin of 
the term and this conception of it are apparent without further com- 
ment. That such a field or problem exists is admitted without ques- 
tion. But I shall subdivide it into two subordinate types of problems 
which I shall call the Orthological and the Teleological. One refers 
to the ideals of truth and the other to those of action. By the ortho- 
logical problems I mean the questions of norms or criteria of values 
in every field of human interest. By the teleological problems I mean 
the questions of means to ends wdiich may be either ideallv or actually 
adopted for action. In general they represent the field of the arts as 
distinct from the sciences. Perhaps it would be more correct to de- 
scribe them as referring to both ends and means, as these are corre- 
lated conceptions. 

The world of causes I shall describe as the Noii7nenological prob- 
lem. I use the term to comprehend both efficient and jnaterial ca-use.?,^ 
and accordingly divide its subordinate problems into the ^Etiological 
and the Ontological. The term is borrowed from the usage of Kant, 
as is apparent, but has not exactly the same import and implications. 
The special meaning of the term and the reason for the use of it are 
found in the fact that w^e need some expression for the mind's habit of 
seeking something that " transcends " the phenomenon to be explained, 
something that is not given in it though implied by it, and that may 
be of a different kind from that whose explanation or ground of occur- 
rence is to be determined. Besides it is intended to express something 
more than " law." This will be apparent in the sequel of this work. 

It is not necessary in this last class of problems, the noumenologi- 
cal, to assume that the field is a legitimate one. So far as the classifi- 
cation and general questions are concerned we may admit with Comte 
that metaphysics or inquiries transcending events and their laws is not 
a legitimate subject of human curiosity. But it is a fact that men have 
indulged speculation and inquiries which they have chosen to denomi- 
nate as the world of causes, or facts and realities other than mere phe- 
nomena. All that the classification requires to recognize is that men 
have been curious to ascertain the existence of certain realities wdiich 
thev have supposed to be supported by the evidence and meaning o£ 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 



phenomena. With this proviso as to the interpretation admissible 
regarding the third class of problems I may proceed to the tabular 
representation of the problems of science and philosophy. 

Classification of the Sciences, or Problems of Science and 

Philosophy. 



Phenomenological. 


Ideological. 


Noumenological. 


Ergological. Nomological. 


Orthological. 


Teleological. 


.5itiological and 
Ontological. 


A. 


Mathematics 






Metrology 
Hylology 


B 


Physics 
Chemistry 
Physiology 
Psychology 




Engineering 
Pharmacy 
Therapeutics 
[ Pedagogy 
Art 
Prattology 


C 




D 


Hygiene 
Epistemology 
Esthetics 
Deontology 


Biology ( ?) 
Pneumatology 


E Anthropology 
F 


G 


Ethology 
Sci. Relig. 
Sociology 
K 




H Relig. Annals. 
I Pol. Annals 


Theology 


Jurisprudence 


Politics 
M 


J 


N 



Before entering into any exposition of this classification and in 
order to prevent misunderstanding at the very outset I must premise 
the statement that no name in this table can have any other meaning 
than that vv'hich its place in the system and the principle of division 
predetermine for it. The classification, I repeat, is not an attempt to 
assign the actual meanings of the terms in any or all cases, but the 
meaning which they must or ought to have in an ideal system. This 
meaning may or may not conform to accepted usage in breadth and 
depth. All the concession that I have made to conceptions in existence 
is found in the place assigned to a name. In this I have taken that 
meaning vs^hich is nearest the import that the term obtains from the 
principle of division, and as near actual usage as possible where that 
is permissible, with one or two exceptions, as noticeable in Biology 
and Politics. Were it not for this proviso I should have to face the 
preliminary objection that many of the sciences involved are not con- 
ceived in their acceptable or accepted import, which a classification is 
usually supposed to recognize. Generally we classify according to a 
definition already adopted, but here I have adopted certain principles 
that predetermine the problems of human reflection and with them the 
conceptions of the sciences in the system. Hence I am in a measure 
endeavoring to determine v\^hat the definition of the sciences should be 
in a rational system of thought, without in any way prejudicing the 
interests that have developed definitions adjusted to practical considera- 
tions. With this explanation the reader will understand that I intend 



28 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

to admit that actual usage does not always, if ever, entirely coincide, 
and may not need to coincide, with the ideal conception of the prob- 
lems which I am trying to define. I can but approximate the ideal 
when accepted usage is the measure, and there will be a corresponding 
variation when the ideal is the standard. I shall consider objections 
later, some of which arise from the omission of sciences which the 
reader might think ought to be specifically included in the system. 

As has already been remarked above, the classification is partly 
territorial and partly problematic. The divisions represented by the 
phenomenological, ideological, and noumenological problems are also 
territorial, this being the same for all of them, and are logical in prin- 
ciple. That is, the classification under them is a logical, and not a serial 
one, except as the latter may be made to articulate with it. It is the 
same with the subdivisions of each of these general classes. They 
are mainly problematic distinctions coinciding ^yith a common territory' 
in general, though marked by slight variations. The parallel lines of 
classification, represented by the letters from A to I indicate an identity 
of territory with a distinction of problems. That is, the sciences in- 
volved deal with the same phenomena but with a different object in 
view. The vertical lines of classification, indicated by the letters from 
J to N, represent the serial classification and involved a distinction of 
territory with identity of problems, and at the same time a connection 
of both territory and problems. To illustrate in both cases. In the 
parallel lines. Anthropology, Psychology, Epistemology, Pedagogy, 
and Pneumatology deal with the same general territory, namely, human 
phenomena, varying in content slightly at least, bvit representing totally 
different problems. In the vertical lines. Physics, Chemistry, Physi- 
olog}", etc., represent different territory but the same problems for in- 
quiry. The dotted lines indicate that there is no accepted name for 
the field or problem corresponding to it. The hyphenated line under 
Hylology indicates that this term may be, or should be, used to cover 
the field occupied by Chemistry as well as Physics. I have omitted 
Phytology or Botany, between Chemistry and Physiolog}', representa- 
tive of the vegetable world, because there are no equivalents of it in 
any of the other corresponding positions, unless we accept Horticul- 
ture under the teleological. If desired this desideratum can be sup- 
plied by the student. 

I have omitted certain sciences from the table because they may be 
considered as subdivisions of the general sciences mentioned. For 
example, it will be remarked that I have not included astronomy in the 
list. The reason for this omission is the fact that we may treat this 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 29 

science either as a combination of mathematics and physics or as a 
subdivision of physics in the wider sense, which latter it really is, 
mathematics entering into both. We may thus subordinate, as is 
usual, mechanics, hydrostatics, thermics, optics, acoustics, etc., to 
physics, thus extending the logical divisions into the sciences classified 
generally in a serial form. Similarly v\^e may deal with history, 
economics and politics, in the usual sense, as subdivisions of Sociology, 
as here conceived. Sociology is often defined and discussed as if it 
were a science coordinate with these, but this grows inore out of the 
coordination of the men working in the subjects than it does out of the 
actual phenomena which determined the science. History, economics, 
and politics are undoubtedly social sciences, or sciences having to deal 
with social phenomena, and hence the right to have a general science 
comprehending them as departments of it. I think the conception 
which this table assigns to Sociology accomplishes this desired result, 
so that the sciences seemingly excluded are tacitly admitted to the 
system. By enlarging the table and specifying the subdivisions or de- 
partments of the general sciences in each case we could indicate more 
definitely the place and relation of omitted sciences. The same remarks 
apply to the omission of logic and ethics, except that the latter is 
actually admitted in the three separate sciences which usually represent 
the content of one. Ethics is often divided into theoretical and prac- 
tical, and Mill suggested the title of ethology as preferable. He did 
this because of the influence of the positivistic view of things and was 
less inclined than the ordinary moralist to place as much stress on the 
idealistic view which sought to modify rather than to accept the exist- 
ing status of custom. Mill w^as right, however, in desiring to have a 
place for ethology, if only he had admitted the equal right to impera- 
tives, or what I here call deontological functions in the direction of 
conduct. But all these considerations, including the current divisions 
of ethics into theoretical and practical, make it feasible to recognize 
three problems, w^hich are respectively called ethology, or the obser- 
vation and systematization of human customs or actual conduct, posi- 
tive morality ; deontology, or the science of the ideal or duty, the ulti- 
mate and imperative end of conduct, and hence theoretical ethics, and 
prattology, or science of the conduct or actions which are necessary 
as means to attain the ideal and hence practical ethics. Logic has been 
omitted because it may be, and according to the conception taken in 
this work of epistemology, should be treated as a branch of this 
science. I conceive epistemology to be the science of the validity of 
knowledge, including perceptual, conceptual, judicial, and ratiocin- 



30 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ative processes. Logic is specifically the science of ratiocination, the 
last of the processes named, but deals with none of the others as a 
part of its problem. Consequently logic is tacitly recognized in the 
manner indicated. 

The objections which will suggest themselves to the use of terms 
in this classification are founded on the differences of conception 
which various men have had regarding the definitions of the sciences. 
For instance, it might fairly be objected by some that jurisprudence 
is not an orthological science at all, a science of what ought ideally 
to prevail in the social and legal relations between men, but a science 
of positive law. It is true that the definition of this science has 
varied from the time of antiquity to the present and has been 
affected by the exigencies of thought in each age, as liave nearly 
all the sciences. Ulpian regarded it as the science of the just and 
the unjust, taking practically the view here implied in the classi- 
fication given. Later writers like Holland regard it as the science 
of positive law, but are careful to say that it is not " applied to 
actual systems of law, or to current systems of law, or to sugges- 
tions for its amendment," but is " abstracted from positive law." This 
modification of the general conception of it as the science of positive 
lawr brings the idea so near to that of Ulpian and so near to that which 
is implied by its position under orthological problems that even Hol- 
land might be quoted as sustaining the general idea indicated by the 
present classification. But even if it does not, I am not concerned 
with the adjustment of the term to that conception which has been 
influenced by the doctrine of evolution and inductive and " empirical" 
methods as opposed to the apriori, since I am endeavoring to indicate 
a problem which lies more closely to the historical meaning of the 
term than the ideas of those who discuss another question under the 
name of jurisprudence which they conceive as a sort of mixture of 
legal history and political questions which are branches of sociolog}- as 
here conceived. But let me once denominate the problem involved by 
the term in a traditional meaning and the name may afterward be 
dropped in so far as investigation and discussion are concerned. I 
need not question the existence of the problem involved in the science 
of positive law, as I in fact recognize it as a part of sociolog}', but I 
also recognize an ideal problem in law which has to be the measure 
of social effort towards justice, and have chosen the term jurisprudence 
as suited to name it, when taken in one of its historical meanings. I 
may treat the term politics in the same way. I have already indicated 
that, in the accepted usage of the term, it represents a branch of soci- 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 31 

ology, and hence I am not here employing the term, as scientific 
students use it to denominate their science. Readers will recognize 
that, in practical life and usage " politics " is a term that has come to 
denote the system of actions and instrumental activities which are 
occupied with the enactment and administration of laws. I have pro- 
visionally given the term that import in the classification, in order to 
get a particular problem recognized, and then am quite willing to drop 
the term from further consideration. I think also that it is nearer to 
the usage of the same term by scientific students than some of them 
may be willing to admit, since " political science" is an investigation 
of the practical instruments and means to the very ends which I have 
defined in the matter. 

The most radical objection that would naturally be taken to any 
term is that of " biology" which has been classed with the metaphys- 
ical sciences ! I have recognized this in the question mark after it. 
Biology in general, I might almost say in universal usage, is a sort of 
comparative physiology and phytology combined and as it is studied 
belongs to the "empirical" or nomological sciences. That is its 
proper import and I do not mean to displace it. But I have availed 
myself of its etymological meaning and the present tendency to admit 
that its investigations result in the assumption of an unknown force 
which is called " life" as distinct from physico-chemical forces on the 
one hand and from psychical agencies on the other, to indicate a meta- 
physical field coming again into recognition after it had been confined 
to the physico-chemical agencies for a long time. This is all that I 
v^^ould accomplish by the employment of the term in the classification. 
Though biology has pursued its studies hitherto in the nomological 
field it bids fair to land with a conclusion in the metaphysical, as it 
certainly will if it decides for a "vital force" of some kind that is 
neither physical nor psychical. This places it above pneumatology 
and below hylology, in so far as it has a metaphysical problem to 
solve. In the meantime it suffices to recognize that current definitions 
and conceptions of it are not discredited by this provisional assumption 
of its etymological import to denominate a final problem when the 
term cannot have a simple place in the scheme on its own natural 
definition as a comparative science combining two others. Objections 
to other terms would be dealt with in the same way, as the purpose 
here is to assume ideal meanings for the terms and to leave current 
usage alone without invidious insinuations regarding them. 

Considering, then, that I mean only to apply my terminology pro- 
visionally and for the purpose of defining the various problems of 



32 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

knowledge and as predetermined by the principles of division indi- 
cated, I may well escape the duty to express adverse opinions respect- 
ing prevailing ideas of what the sciences actually do in connection 
with the various human interests that have determined them. In 
actual usage and investigations the conception of a science is largely 
influenced by the mental and moral interests of the inquirer. For 
example, if a man is not interested in metaphysics and theology but is 
interested in the study of mental phenomena, he is likely to insist that 
psychology is an " empirical " science and excludes the problems of 
the former fields from it, and whether "psychology" ever comes to 
have that narrower meaning or not will depend w^holly upon the extent 
to which investigators into mental phenomena actually adopt that 
limitation of their inquiries and lose interest in the other problems. If 
he is interested in other matters than the mere determination of mental 
phenomena and their laws and if it is necessary to use these phenomena 
for determining his conclusions he will introduce other problems than 
the merely phenomenological into his considerations and naturally de- 
fine his science accordingly. It is precisely the same with any other 
science. Nomological, orthological, teleological, and noumenological 
interests inevitably become intermingled in the treatment of phenomena 
because human interests are stronger than the restraints of abstract 
and logical definition. A man studying the properties of radium is 
inevitably led into discussions of the theories of matter and so involves 
himself in metaphysical questions without troubling himself about the 
definition of his science and would also claim that it was no trans- 
gression of his science to do so, though he might not interest himself 
in the metaphysics of mind at the same time. A man studying the 
relations between mental and physical phenomena can hardly escape 
the consideration of problems wdiich would not logically belong to 
physical science as usually defined. Consequently what we find in 
actual life, where the territory of facts is the same and the problems 
different, is that the limits of any science are not exactlv determined 
except in terms of the interest of the investigator. Various problems 
are associated and articulated with the same facts and onlv as a man 
deliberately excludes certain of them from the consideration of others 
does any science acquire the limitations which definition gives them. 
When intellectual and moral interests conflict controversv arises in 
regard to the proper functions and province of a given science. But 
the fact that any man is not interested in a specific problem, even 
though it may be a reason for limiting a particular science bv its ex- 
clusion, does not eliminate the problem from existence or legitimate 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 33 

consideration. Hence I have endeavored in my classification to pre- 
sent the distinct problems of human interest with as close approximation 
to customary definition as the circumstances would allow, while not 
desiring to prejudice any actual definition of the sciences that complex 
speculative interests might wish to incorporate into the conception of 
a subject. Such a procedure minimizes the importance of definition 
and controversies about the limits of a science while it accomplishes, 
in the recognition of the problems concerned, all that both sides of 
opposing schools wish to maintain. 

These answers to objections explain the purpose of the classifica- 
tion to bring out and make clear the distinction of problems even 
though it is not possible in actual reflection to keep the definition and 
conception of the sciences as distinct as are the issues involved in in- 
vestigation. But there are other objects served by the tabular review 
adopted. I wish to call attention to the circumstance that the table 
represents from left to right the logical and properly chronological 
succession of problems. First we have the simple and unsystematized 
facts to catalogue. In this, the ergological question, we do not pri- 
marily take account of anything but the fact of occurrence. This 
must always be the first act of science and none other is possible or 
rational. The next proper problem is to ascertain the law which 
governs phenomena obtained by experience. Here we begin the prob- 
lem of systematization. But at the same time the opportunity occurs 
for the mind to inquire for values or causes before this process of de- 
termining laws has been undertaken, and we have an illustration of the 
way in which unsystematic reflection arises and may originate confu- 
sion in results. But when indicating that the proper order of proced- 
ure is the determination of laws after ascertaining the facts or phenom- 
ena I mean to describe scientijic method, not the actual order of every 
one's reflection. But the nomological proble-m should follow, and 
scientifically does follow, the ergological, and determines some sort of 
order and unity in phenomena. We may disregard all metaphysical 
questions of causes, if we desire, in so far as those of mere coexistence 
and sequence of phenomena are concerned, since many of the " prac- 
tical " matters of life may not be necessarily concerned with any other 
result. How far this is either possible or useful will be the subject of 
later consideration. But it is important to observe that in this nomo^ 
logical problem no process of selection of phenomena, which takes 
place to the exclusion of others on the basis of values, can ever be 
justified. The classification of events is based upon that of distinction 
in kind without regard to value, while value will be the criterion in 

3 



34 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ideological questions. In the nomological problem we must treat all 
facts alike, as we are seeking the uniformities of their occurrence and 
not their distinctions of value alone. Good and bad, normal and ab- 
normal, beautiful and ugly, are not the first qualities concerned in their 
<:lassification, and are explained, or their laws determined, without 
reference to ideal considerations. But in the orthological problem we 
have to deal with criteria of values. Validity is here the fundamental 
issue, that is, the choice of facts or phenomena to be estimated above 
or below others in practical conduct and adjustment. Here utility, 
not truth, is the standard of interest and the line of demarcation be- 
tween phenomena will not coincide with that w^hich determines the 
nomological problem. Then finally comes the teleological question 
of -means to the ends orthologically determined. The last problem is 
thus the realization of our ideals by a determination of the necessary 
means to their accomplishment. 

The positivist or phenomenalist would stop at this point and admit 
no other subjects of investigation into his system. For certain pur- 
poses I am willing to admit that it may not be necessary to go further 
or inquire into anything else. Of this again. But the human mind 
has insisted on speculating about other real or imaginary problems, and 
I have chosen to denominate them the noumenological, as seeking other 
facts than mere phenomena to satisfy its curiosity, and so I make the 
conception convertible with the term metaphysics. I repudiate Kant's 
use of the term metaphysics as Avholly mistaking the problems which 
had presented themselves to the human mind and as an endeavor, or a 
tendency if not an endeavor, to confuse sane people by representing as 
legitimate what the main thesis of his system had denied. In the con- 
ception of this classification I mean to use the term metaphysics and 
causal or noumenological as convertible and as denoting the metaphe- 
nomenal or the transphenomenal. There may be no such thing as a 
metaphenomenal reality, but I have nothing to do with a fact of this 
sort when trying to describe the problems with which the human mind 
has actually occupied itself. We may deny that the problem is legiti- 
mate or soluble, but we can neither deny that it has existed nor use its 
phraseology for legitimate conceptions after discrediting the ideas 
for which it has always stood. I shall therefore use the term meta- 
physics to define a real or imaginar}- problem without implying its 
legitimacy or illegitimacy, but a problem of something more than mere 
phenomena. 

The special sciences or disciplines under this head are metrology, 
hylology, pneumatology, and theology. I should have to include 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 35 

biology with the quaUfications already stated. They represent the 
problem of the existence and nature of realities other than mere events, 
or phenomena as represented or representible in sensory experience. 
By metrology I mean the metaphysics of space and time, such as their 
nature, dimensional quality and relation to other realities, and as prin- 
ciples of continuity and individuation, determining all the applications 
of mathematics. Following this on the serial principle of Comte is 
hylology, representing the problem of the existence and nature of 
matter and so including all such speculations as the atomic theory, the 
vortex atom theory, the theory of ether, the ancient, the Cartesian and 
other theories of a plenum^ and the modern speculation based upon 
electrons and ions. Pneumatology represents the problem concerning 
the existence and nature of the soul, of a reality other than the brain 
or organism to account for the facts of consciousness. Theology seeks 
to determine the existence and nature of God, or an Absolute assumed 
to underlie and control the whole universe of phenomenal or other 
dependent reality. 

These speculative inquiries or sciences, if we may call them such, 
are given in the order of their dependence and certitude. Space and 
time represent the first data whose certitude seems not to be open to 
question of any kind, though their nature may be subject to discussion. 
They represent the static universe, as they involve no change or phe- 
nomenal modes. In the next stage we have matter whose conception 
is the reflex of the mind's consciousness of certain phenomena which 
are supposed to have this center of reference as a subject of the world 
of change, a substantive background which we agree to call matter. 
These phenomena which suggest such a background are comprehended 
in certain changes or activities which require us to suppose something 
other than space or time as their ground. If there were no phenomenal 
changes whatever we should have a universe altogether static which we 
could not distinguish from space and time. But the existence of certain 
facts which cannot be ascribed to the static realities of space and time, 
but which are yet conditioned by them, at least in certain manifesta- 
tions, creates the necessity for supposing a reality which w^e conceive 
as of the substantive sort in addition to space and time. Now the 
most important thing to observe at this point is the limitation which 
rational and scientific method places upon reflection at every stage of 
its procedure. After we have accepted the existence of matter to ex- 
plain a given kind of phenomenal change the law of parsimony 
requires us not to admit the existence of any other type of reality, just 
.as space and time permit none other unless dynamic facts demand it. 



36 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Our proper scientific duty is to explain all associated phenomena by 
the same cause unless there are sufficient reasons for assuming other 
realities. That is to say, unless adequate reasons arise, we must ex- 
plain the phenomena of consciousness as functions of the brain or 
organism, just as we do digestion and circulation, because thev are as- 
sociated with it in the same way. Hence pneumatology, whatever 
place it may have in a classification of theories and problems, will 
have no real place of a legitimate sort in the system of speculative 
thought unless we have evidence either that consciousness is so different 
from physical events that it cannot be explained by the same cause or 
that it exists independently of the material organism. Pneumatology 
is conditioned upon the existence of facts that require us to suppose 
something besides matter to account for them. But as long as con- 
sciousness is associated with a physiological organism both the evi- 
dential and the explanatory problem will create the same relation be- 
tween hylology and pneumatology as that between physiology and 
psychology. The relation between pneumatology and theology will 
be analogous. The existence and nature of any other higher intelli- 
gence than man in the universe, especially according to the results of 
evolution, will depend, first, on the discovery of phenomena for which 
matter cannot supply an explanation, and, secondly, upon the dis- 
covery of a mental reality in man other than the brain to account for 
his consciousness, and as an indication that matter is not the only 
reality in existence. Both the immaterial and the spiritual inust be 
decided in man as a condition of getting the spiritual beyond him^ 
that is, as a condition of proving the existence of God. Whether any 
such result can be achieved it is not my purpose to assume or assert in 
a classification of problems. I am only defining the issues as they must 
be conceived in a scientific system. It places theolog}^ as the last 
science in both its nature and certitude, the last problem which man 
has to solve, if it be legitimate or soluble at all. 

It will be noticed also that there is but one vertical column of 
sciences under the division of ^etiological and ontological problems. 
The reason for this is that I should have been forced otherwise to coin 
terms for all instances except theology and pneumatology. The term, 
pneumatology exists but has no general current use for a special prob- 
lem, and even when it was used in scholastic philosophy it did not 
always, if ever, have exactly the meaning which I ascribe to it here, 
except in a general way. Consequently I have been content with 
single terms for two sets of problems which can be ideally distin- 
guished, as in all the other subdivisions, namely, the evidential and 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 37 

explanatory problem of the existence and the unifying problem of the 
nature of certain realities. Actual custom has embodied all discussion 
of the noumenological problems, both aetiological and ontological as 
defined here, under the general head of philosophy or metaphysics, 
and no effort has been made to specially distinguish one problem from 
the other. In fact, it might even be said that the noumenological 
problem is not consciously admitted to be an object of legitimate or 
possible quest, especially among those ^vho are devout v\^orshippers of 
Kant. All that can be claimed, in so far as conscious theoretical re- 
flection is concerned, is that the noumenological problem is tacitly 
assumed in many of the conceptions and speculations of human thought. 
The main thing contended for is that the inquiry regarding the exist- 
ence and nature of any realities or facts other than phenomena shall be 
kept distinct from the objects of the phenomenological and ideological 
sciences. I shall denominate this problem as that of metaphysics and 
shall intend by it to include all the questions involved in the separate 
disciplines under the noumenological division, assuming that {etiologi- 
cal and ontological questions are aspects of the general problem, or 
concern both the existence and the nature of transphenomenal reality. 
These must be further explained. 

The term " noumenon," or noumenological, is an unfortunate one. 
It suggests all the difficulties, confusion, obscurities and dubious 
problems of Kant's " Ding an sich" which v^^as "unknown" and 
*' unknowable," though it was strangely asserted to exist. I do not 
mean here to import into the problem which I have indicated the con- 
ceptions which defined the term for Kant. If I had to do this I should 
repudiate the term altogether as only calculated to produce intellectual 
anarchy. But I do wish to recognize that Kant's distinction be- 
tween noumena and phenomena, if rightly defined and qualified, and 
when cleared of the confusion created by so much irresponsible and 
dogmatic talk about the " unknowable," has an important function for 
human reflection. Hence I use the term " noumenon" here to denote 
indifferently the cause and the ground or subject of an event or phenom- 
enon, I might even rely upon one side of Kant's own system to sup- 
port this recognized use of the term, as his conception of the action of 
something upon the subject in sense, " durch Krafte," and not the 
sensation itself, as well as his whole doctrine of substance, distinctly 
assumes the idea here advanced, and it represents a transphenomenal 
fact. I mean that the distinction between setiological and ontological 
shall be convertible with that between sufficient reason or efficient 
cause and that represented by the principle of identity and difference 



3S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

which, if we Hkc, we may denominate the " material " cause. Con- 
sequently I shall mean by noumenon or reality any fact whatsoever 
which transcends events or phenomena that may be the subject of in- 
vestigation and hence explanation by a center of reference commonly ex- 
pressed in a term for a substance or subject of attributes. Whenever 
we recognize an event, activity, change, or phenomenon, which we 
may conceive as a function of something, or, if you like, as an attri- 
bute of a static or dynamic something, we adopt some term to indicate 
the existence of that center of reference which we make, in some 
sense of the term, to be other than the fact so referred. For example^ 
if we discover certain events in connection with the behavior of the 
nitrogen obtained from the air and different froin the qualities of nitro- 
gen obtained from organic compounds we suspect the existence of a 
new substance and investigation shows that this new subject exists. 
The name argon is adopted to express it. This is not conceived as a 
mere phenomenon, because, if it were, there would be no reason for 
detaching it from nitrogen. But the fact that certain phenomena de- 
mand a subject or substance to which they belong determines, in this 
isolation of the new phenomena, that we shall admit the existence of a 
new substance. It is the same with absolutely every substantive con- 
cept we have. They are all centers of reference for various phenom- 
ena or attributes which do not exist alone. This is the process by 
which the very conception of matter has been formed. We observe 
certain events and uniformities of activity, or attributes, static or 
dynamic, and refer them to a subject or substance which we choose to 
call "matter." It is not the phenomenon or phenomena, but the 
ground of it or of them. Whether we have the right to suppose any 
such thing is not the question, but whether ^ve actually do it or not. 
I am simply indicating the facts which give rise to certain modes of 
thought and speculation and showing that they apply equally in what 
is called " physical science " as in w^hat passes for " inetaphysics." I 
regard it as a metaphysical procedure wherever it occurs. Hence by 
noumenological inquiries I mean simply the problem of ascertaining 
whether there is anything beyond the event or phenomenon -which \ve 
observe in experience, and this reality other than the event will be 
assumed or accepted on every occasion on which the evidence goes to 
show either that the fact does not explain itself or that existing 
assumed realities wall not explain it, as in the cases of argon, radium, 
etc. Such realities are simply the permanent centers of reference, 
subjects or substances which have these events or activities as their 
modes of behavior, functions, attributes, properties, etc. The nou- 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 39 

menological problem, therefore, is the only question of determining 
evidentially whether any such thing or things exist besides the events 
to be accounted for. Besides all substantive realities of a specific sort, 
v^^e have in speculative philosophy various representatives of this proc- 
ess in the general term " matter," and the more specific terms " ether," 
"soul," "God." The recent doctrine of "energy" as a substance 
show^s the same inevitable tendency. 

After the mind determines upon the fact that there is something 
besides the mere events or phenomena of observation, if there be more 
than oue reality supposed, it seeks to ascertain their " nature " in terms 
of comparison w^ith each other. This is what I have called the onto- 
logical problem, using that term in one of its scholastic meanings to 
denote what may be called a ' ' material " cause of things as distinct 
from the efficient, active or creative cause. If there be but one kind 
of noumenal reality, that is, if absolute monism be the accepted doc- 
trine, the ontological and astiological problems v^^ill practically coincide. 
In that case the only criterion of what a thing "is," or what its 
"natvire" is, would be what it does^ that is, its inodes of action or 
properties. In the last analysis, as I mean to show later, the " nature " 
of anything and everything must be determined in this way. But in a 
w^orld of multiplicity, whether phenomenal or noumenal, comparison 
of realities is possible, while in a purely monistic system this cannot 
be instituted for determining an ontological unity and diversity not 
already assumed in the primary reality. But if pluralism be assumed 
the question of identities and differences arises and the ontological 
problem will be to find such "unity" as is possible by reducing the 
number of differential realities as far as possible. All classification by 
genus and species effects this. In the physical sciences, at present, 
this process has reduced the number of compound or complex realities 
to a more or less definite number, and the number of " elements" to 
seventy or more, so far as known. The setiological problem inay not / 
take us beyond a chaos, inasmuch as it requires only the postulation [ 
of a cause for each event and ttnless there is some way of unifying the \ 
system by the principle of identity in some form, the world will remain \ 
a chaos. Ontological comparison, reducing the number of kinds to ' 
the smallest possible, gives us, in a pluralistic system the greatest pos- 
sible "unity" with the least possible diversity. In the last stage of 
inquiry we may find that even the elements or atoms are but one in 
kind, as a recent doctrine of the atoms maintains, but even with this 
pluralism of some kind prevails, and only monism of the most abso- 
lute type can escape making the principle of identity and difference 



4© THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

coordinate with that of causality. But until that condition of fact is 
reached the ontological and astiological problems will remain separate, 
and it will always be required of us that we first prove the existence 
of noumenal reality and then investigate its " nature " in relation to 
other noumenal realities. Whether it is legitimate to hunt for or assert 
the existence of anything but phenomena and their laws I am not main- 
taining, but only classifying the reflective ways of thinking in all fields 
of investigation whatsoever. They are not peculiar to what is styled, 
often with contempt, " metaphysics," but are equally characteristic of 
absolutely all physical sciences when they speak and think of atomic 
or other realities, which they assume to be the proximate or ultimate 
center of reference for phenomena, functions, attributes, or prop- 
erties, etc. If this procedure is legitimate in the physical sciences 
it is also legitimate in what are called the metaphysical sciences, and if 
it is not so in the latter it will not be so in the former. Falsus in uno 
falsiis in omnibzis. Contemptuous banishm.ent of it in one field must 
lead to it in the other, and its admission in one qualifies it for recogni- 
tion in the other. 

The importance of this classification of problems lies less in the 
mere delimitation of problems as such than it does in the manner in 
which it prepares the way for pacifying the animosities of certain tra- 
ditional controversies. The conflict between "metaphysics" and 
" science" in modern times has hardly been less heated than the old 
one between theology and science. Both have been encouraged by the 
limitation of "knowledge" to "phenomena." One school has in- 
sisted that the most important truths are associated with the determi- 
nation of ultimate realities, and the other refused to recognize the value 
of any such truths because it maintained that such realities could not 
be known if they existed. But even if they were in any way " know- 
able " the positive or phenomenal school, viewing the discussions of 
scholasticism as interminable and fruitless, found no way to keep clear of 
such controversies but to discredit them and to emphasize the value of 
studying facts. The assumed or declared supremacv of the inductive 
method, as against the deductive which was supposed to prevail in the 
barren disputes of scholasticism, encouraged suspense of judgment 
in regard to the "nature" of things until their actual behavior was 
known, and this method required at least the provisional suspen- 
sion of " metaplwsical " reflection. Contentment with the study of 
" phenomena " alone inevitablv led to the neglect of all the " meta- 
physical " speculations of the period against which the new movement 
was a protest. The consequence ^vas that men more and more became 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY 41 

satisfied with the investigation of phenomenological and ideological 
problems and the noumenological or " metaphysical" were relegated 
to the limbo of fancy and dreams. It was found that some sort of 
progress was possible by abandoning interminable discussions about 
the " nature of things" and theological quiddities, and devoting effort 
to the patient study of facts. Knowledge was thereby increased and 
the conditions of life improved. The human mind naturally inclined 
toward the methods that actually achieved some conquest over nature 
and mystery. Hence the whole tendency has been toward the pri- 
mary importance of know^ing what phenomena are and their laws while 
all other alleged problems were discarded. Now it is a fact that many 
of the affairs of life are not affected by " metaphysical " conclusions 
one way or the other. The interests of agriculture, of industrial man- 
ufacture, of trade, of architecture, are not affected by the question 
whether Berkeley or Lucretius is right about the existence or nature 
of matter. When I have to sow my crops for bread what do I care 
whether " matter " shall be resolved into the manifestations of spirit or 
not. The relation between my food and the sustenance of life is the 
same on any conception of " matter," whether it be resolvable or not 
into vortex atoms of ether. None of the speculations of philosophers 
in any way affect the economic or material affairs of human life as 
conditions of its support. The discovery of this fact and the necessity 
of respecting it for the various needs of civilization, after the break up 
of scholasticism, forced mankind to pay attention to the actual facts 
and laws of things to meet the practical wants of the age. The decline 
of " inetaphysics " was inevitable, as it could lay claim to no value but 
a spiritual, whatever that meant, and the progress of science was ac- 
companied by such a tendency toward materialism that a spiritual 
view of the world has become well-nigh impossible, except to those 
who like to fool themselves by quibbles about " matter" and vague 
misty speech about spirit in the impenetrable and foggy wilderness of 
Kanto-Hegelianism. In so far as the phenomenalist had the ordinary 
practical affairs of life in mind, the adjustment of human events to 
actual facts, he has been right. All our relations to the external world, 
our objective morality or the attainment of the interests which are de- 
termined by adjustment to " natural" forces, are realized by conform- 
ity to facts and not to theories about these facts. It matters not what 
gravitation is, whether it is a pushing or a pulling influence, a material 
or an immxaterial force, my behavior toward the conditions supposed 
to be affected by it must be the same, assuming that I mean to pre- 
serve my life at all. I inust have a regard to the seasons and their 



42 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

order if I am to protect myself against the risks of their changes, and 
this without regard to the question whether the cosmic order is either 
proximately or ultimately a spiritual one. The actual phenomena of 
experience and their laws, the uniformities or variations of their coex- 
istence and sequence, are the first considerations which man has to 
respect in the struggle for existence, and pliilosophic theories have 
either to assume a position of minor importance or be disregarded 
altogether. If man had a more universal tendency to suicide, cosmic 
and other theories supposed to determine the value of life and the 
duty to presers'e it might have more importance as w^ell as power to 
affect conduct. But the instinct of self-preservation is so strong 
usually that the problem is not to supply adequate motives for self 
protection and obedience to natural appetites, but to so regulate these 
instincts and their exercise that the end of self-preser\-ation is not sur- 
reptitiously defeated. A knowledge of facts is the main tiling \vanted 
in the regulation of this condition of affairs. It is not theories of a 
transcendental world that are necessary for the sustenance of the 
life and conduct which are supposedly necessary to make philosophic 
belief possible and correct, but it is a knowledge of the actual behavior 
of the physical world and the relation of this behavior to my welfare 
as a physical being. I shall not deny a place in the totality of human 
development to philosophic reflection and metaphysical theories, but 
they are not the primary considerations in the regulation of life and 
conduct. Certain conditions have first to be satisfied in order to make 
such theories possible and effective, and these conditions are a knowl- 
edge of actual facts, of phenomena and their laws, in order to deter- 
mine the situation to which my actions must be adjusted, that is, in 
order that, from the uniformities of coexistence and sequence, I may see 
before and after and thread the labyrinthian path of nature ^vithout 
risk of being swallowed up in its abysses or of conflict with surround- 
ing forces in the narrow course which I have to follow. So far the 
positivist and phenomenalist are right. The primar}^ duty of man is re- 
spect for facts nearest him and those facts whose certitude is easiest of 
establishment. He begins his knowledge with experience of facts or phe- 
nomena and he cannot rationally philosophize until he observes these. 
Much of his conduct must be decided upon both before he is able to phil- 
osophize and without regard to it. Besides whatever philosophy he 
adopts it will depend upon his previous knowledge of what the phe- 
nomena and laws of " nature" are, as all rational philosophy or meta- 
physics must be an explanation of facts, or be justly accused of being 
sheer invention. 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 43 

What positivism or phenomenalism has stood for, whatever the 
mistakes and errors that may be attributable to it, is primary respect 
for facts and sympathy v^ith the intellectual movement initiated by in- 
ductive and scientific method. The genius of this tendency was soon 
realized and its antagonism to scholastic speculation v^^as so apparent 
that, as in all revolutionary impulses, the actual work of previous 
periods was neglected in favor of the prophetic promises of a new 
world of interest and hope. Consequently in eradicating the false 
method of speculative philosophy, the a priori assumptions and 
reasoning of scholastic thought, from which even Kant did not wholly 
free himself, the human mind took the " empirical " tack toward an 
exclusive regard for phenomena which seemed to be its only hope of 
liberation from the shackles of dogmatism. The new movement, 
however, simply esconced itself comfortably in another dogmatism 
about the limitations of knowledge to " phenomena," and in its talk 
about " experience" made no provision for the elasticity and ever-ex- 
tending area of these boundaries. While it might be true enough that 
certain truths were not demonstrable by known facts or phenomena, 
there is nothing in the conception of " facts " or " phenomena," or the 
idea and limits of " experience," to prevent the discovery of data that 
may prove what one age or stage of reflection had no rational grounds 
to believe. Hence the scholastic dogma of unlimited knowledge was 
simply met by another dogma about its limits, and these limits involved 
the assumption that no one could know anything more than the indi- 
viduals who were so confident about phenomenalism. But there are 
interests and instincts in human nature w^hich extend far beyond the 
mere needs of adjustment to facts or self-preservation. Intellectual 
curiosity as to the explanation of phenomena is an instinct quite as 
strong as any desire to live, at least in some individuals. We need not 
go farther than the atomic theory or the vortex atom theory of matter 
to see this, and if we are to indulge our intellectual appetencies at all, 
we are not likely to limit them to the narrow confines to w^hich Comte 
and his school, if logically consistent, must reduce them. Qur intel- 
lects interest themselves in other pursuits than those of making bread 
or escaping death in the struggle for existence, and the phenomenalist 
may as well recognize this. What he ought to have seen was, not 
that all metaphysics w^as wrong, but that the prevailing systems were 
wrong in their method, and then to have based the value of his own 
point of view on its inductive method rather than on the limitation of 
" knowledge " to " phenomena," a term quite as equivocal as any other 
in philosophy and which can be used as well as any other to call back 



44 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

into being the very philosophies which it had been used to dispel. It 
was a reform of method that was needed as much as that of material 
results, and it would have conduced to less error and more progress 
away from controversy if that tack had been taken instead of inviting 
such a fruitless discussion as has followed in the wake of the Kantian 
movement, a kind of phenomenalism that carries on a sort of hypo- 
critical flirtation with every imaginable form of dogmatism. I hope, 
therefore, that the above classification of problems has enabled me to 
take a just view of both phenomenalism and transphenomenalism, if I 
may so call the study of metaphysics, admitting legitimate claims to 
both while I assign to phenomenological problems the primarv' im- 
portance as conditions of sane metaphysics and as evidence that 
"scientific method" is the only one which I shall recognize as quali- 
fied to determine truth of any kind. Method of investigation is the 
first reform needed in philosophy and it would have occasioned as much 
advance in that field as in science, if it had been demanded instead of 
ridiculing all metaphysical reflection. 

Two things will now be apparent in regard to the results of this 
classification of the problems of science and philosophy. The first is 
that it recognizes all that the "empiricist" and phenomenalist can 
rightly claim in the nature of knowledge and method of inquiry. The 
second is that the classification defines the conceptions of epistemology 
and metaphysics in the way that this work means to treat them. 
Epistemology is conceived as a science of validity in the processes of 
" knowledge" and not a system of philosophy, nor a propaedeutic of 
philosophy or metaphysics any more than it is of physiology, psy- 
chology, sociology, physics or chemistry. It is usually treated as if 
a metaphysics were not possible until one had formed a theory of 
" knowledge," but so far from the theory of " knowledge " being an 
absolutely necessary condition of a metaphysics, I shall treat it only as 
a clarifying help in such a result, important to complete, not to condi- 
tion all philosophy. We cannot refuse some conditioning influence on 
other thought to the investigations which aim to determine the criteria 
of truth in the processes which have to be assumed and used in all in- 
quiry, but what I maintain is that it does not specially condition meta- 
physics more than it does all other forms of investigation and reflection. 
It is in fact not the " condition " of any of the disciplines, being itself 
conditioned by the same general assumptions and principles that gov- 
ern all the sciences. Modern philosophers, however, since Kant have 
a habit of conditioning evei'ything on the results of epistemology and 
hence of demanding that every system of metaphysics predetermines its 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 45 

rights by the inquiries which are instituted to ascertain the nature and 
limits of " knowledge," begging the question all the while in their 
confusion of the object with the process of investigation. It starts 
with scepticism in regard to systems of philosophy and either forgets 
to apply this method to epistemology or fails to see that unless it 
abandons this method it can obtain no results in its own field. If the 
mind is not competent to investigate metaphysical problems until it has 
obtained a theory of " knowledge " it is not coinpetent to form a theory 
of " knowledge," while trust in its faculties in epistemology only jus- 
tifies the employment of the same powers in metaphysics or any other 
science without regard to the conditioning relations of the theory of 
" knowledge." We cannot distrust the mind in its metaphysical func- 
tions and implicitly accept its judgments in epistemology. The same 
functions are involved in both, a fact indubitably proved by the uni- 
versal tendency since Kant to make epistemology more or less conver- 
tible with metaphysics, or when not this, to regard it as predeter- 
mining the view which we take of things. But if we are competent 
to investigate "knowledge" we are also competent to investigate 
metaphysics, and whatever limits are assigned to " knowledge" in the 
latter must be admitted in the former, and if we start with scepticism 
we must end with it. Consequently the real condition of philosophy 
is the same in both fields. It is not the dependence of metaphysics 
upon the determination of the limitations of " knowledge," but the 
application of scientific and critical methods to both. It is scientific 
method, not the theory of " knowledge " that conditions truth about 
things. I therefore regard epistemology as simply one of the sciences 
coordinate with the others, and metaphysics, if allowable at all, as 
simply the most fundamental of all investigations of phenomena. 

But now a most important fact comes to view which I have pur- 
posely avoided thus far. It is the relation between the metaphysical 
sciences and the phenomenological. The tabular representation indi- 
cates, by implication at least, that they are the last in time in the proc- 
ess of inquiry. This is not necessarily the case. The chief reason 
for placing them in the last column, as if all other problems had first 
to be solved, was consideration for positivism and the doubts that might 
be entertained as to the value or even possibility of metaphysics of any 
kind. But the fact is that conclusions in metaphysics are so closely 
associated with nomological results that temporally we may not be 
able to distinguish " causes " from " laws." The same conditions and 
criteria that determine one often determine the other at the same time. 
Besides we have often assumed the nature of the reality at the basis of 



46 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

phenomena before we investigate their laws. The application of the 
principle of causality is so natural and inevitable from the earliest 
period of conscious reflection that its results are often anterior to the 
question of laws. Hence we often have a system, always I might say, 
before we begin the nomological study of phenomena. Then, as I 
have just said, when this investigation has begun the close connection 
between the two problems in respect to the method of determining 
results is such that the same conditions often decide one of the prob- 
lems that decide the other. That is, in determining the laws of phe- 
nomena we at the same time determine their causes. The uniformity 
of coexistence and sequence is, in fact, a criterion of what the cause 
is when the assumption of any reality other than phenomena is once 
made, so that only where we suspend judgment as to the causal agent 
and investigate the uniformity of events in the abstract do we distin- 
guish evidentially or otherwise between the nomological and the aetio- 
logical problem. This is in the critical and systematic procedure of 
investigation where the cause is less evident than the fact and law of 
phenomena. But quite as often the evidential solution of the one is 
or indicates the solution of the other. Hence in actual method tlie 
phenomenological and the noumenological problems may go together, 
though this is not necessarily and in all instances the case. It depends 
wholly upon the particular metaphysical problem concerned. One 
stage of it may be assumed before the nomological investigation begins 
and another may be consequent upon its solution or coexistent with it. 

It may be necessary to define and explain a little more clearly cer- 
tain aspects of the noumenological problem which I have not men- 
tioned, and which will serve to jvistify the recognition of it as an object 
of rational interest. It will be observed that I have divided it into the 
{Etiological and ontological questions, or those of efficient and material 
causation, the term "noumenological" standing for catcse in general. 
This implies that I here use the term " cause " as a genus for two types 
of explanatory reality, the sEtiogenetic and the ontogenetic, the origina- 
tive and constitutive. The significance of this will appear when we 
remark the way in which all metaphysical beliefs arise. 

Facts or "phenomena" suggest something to which they are 
related. It might be better to say that they "necessitate" it, but it 
will scrv^e all purposes not to state it any more strongly than "sug- 
gestion." Moreover, in so far as our problem is concerned, I do not 
care how this process comes about or whether it is legitimate or not. 
The preliminary step to the consideration of validity is the fact that 
we do it. We invariably refer "phenomena" to their causes or 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 47 

grounds and the act involves certain consequences. The first and 
simplest reference which we give to any "■phenomenon" is to its 
"cause" in some sense of that term. The most primary conception 
of this " cause " is that of a thing and the " phenomenon " is its prop- 
erty. This is a conception of "cause" which has prior value and 
probably has prior existence to that of antecedent in a series of events. 
We finally name the thing a subject or substance, and the properties 
its attributes, the terms " property," " quality," and " attribute " being 
interconvertible. The reason for supposing a subject or substance of 
any kind is simply the fact that we find ourselves forced in some way 
to account for " phenomena" or events, as not unsupported altogether 
or as facts spontaneously originating. In the later development of 
intelligence we find them existing in a double relation. The first is in 
relation to a ground or subject of which they are the action or function, 
property, attribute, etc., and the second is in relation to an antecedent 
or originative or efficient " cause " which makes them occur without 
necessarily determining their nature, this latter fact being determined 
by the subject in which they occur. But the first reference which the 
causal judgment makes is to a ground or subject. Events are not sup- 
posed to be groundless or incidents having no reality of which they 
can be modes of action. For this reason, good or bad, we insist that 
they hang upon something, or attach to something of which they are 
functions. To illustrate, take a ball in motion. The motion is a mode 
of action and cannot occur apart from the thing which we call the 
subject, even though we may say that it is transmissible from subject 
to subject. It is a condition of the ball that is an alternative to another 
condition called rest, the ball being the thing that is capable of being 
in either condition. The motion or rest is a relative fact that has no 
meaning or possibility apart from the thing to which it is related or of 
which it is a condition. Neither the motion nor the rest can exist 
unless it is a condition of something in motion or rest. The necessity 
of this way of thinking is apparent in the hypothesis of the existence 
of ether. The ether was posited to account forthe transmission of light. 
If motion can subsist apart from a svibject, there is no reason for sup- 
posing the existence of an ethereal medium for the transmission of 
light from the sun to the earth. If it could possibly be subjectless it 
would transmit itself from point to point without a medivnn. The 
philosopher, therefore, who would insist upon the independent exist- 
ence of motion would remove the basis of all physical " science," as 
concerned v\^ith realities other than " phenomenal " coexistences and 
sequences . It will be the same with all the properties of reality which 



4^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

are treated as modes of motion in physical science, and which are 
spoken of as transmissible. It is all the more true of the intransmis- 
sible properties or functions of reality. They are also facts that imply 
a reality other than themselves, and so far as validity is concerned it 
matters not whether we call the process of reference involved " em- 
pirical " or " a priori," No man escapes the problem of validity by 
pretension of empiricism nor does the bare fact of nativity establish 
this validity, though it does imply inexpugnability and the necessity of 
conformity to its demands. If that is tantamount to validity the fact 
will have to be accepted. But I am at present concerned with the fact 
that the process is a universal one in the exercise of human intelligence 
and on that account requires adjustment to it. 

Let me put the process again in another way. Facts, events,, 
actions, properties, "phenomena" belong to something, and this 
reference is the noumenological process in its first stage. The " phe- 
nomenon " is transcended in finding that to which it belongs as a func- 
tion or attribute, the subject being what I may call the reflex of the 
conception that what we "experience" is" phenomenal" and so 
relative. That is, " noumena " and "phenomena" are relative or 
correlative terms. Neither is legitimate without the other. To 
" know" one is to " know" the other. We cannot conceive any fact 
as a " phenomenon" without implying the existence of the " noume- 
non." We may go on and ask what this " noumenon " is. and we 
may find that it is either another " phenomenon" or we may find that 
it is not " phenomenal " at all. It is once and always the implicate of 
our discovery that the given is not self -explicable. On any meaning 
of the term this is the case, whether it is conceived as an " event " or 
as an " appearance." An event is a fact beginning in time and implies 
an antecedent of some sort, unless both science and metaphysics are to 
be rejected. An " appearance " is the presentation of some reality, 
unless it is an illusion, and even this has no meaning unless a reality 
is granted for determining its nature as an illusion. But this aside, 
the " appearance " is the presentation of something, whether it is of the 
nature apparent or not, and we do not escape metaphysical implica- 
tions by calling any thing a mere " phenomenon." If it were not a 
relative term the case might be otherwise. But it denotes either a 
related or an unrelated fact. If it denotes a related fact, it implies a 
" noumenon " ; if it denotes an unrelated fact, it is itself the " noume- 
non," so that we must either draw no distinction between the terms 
or we must grant that " noumenon " is just as legitimate a term as 
"phenomenon," and that one is just as much "known" as the 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 49 

other. What is absurd in the case is to say that one is " un- 
Known " and then to limit this ' ' known " by that which is nothing for 
" knowledge "and to exclude the correlate from that which is avow- 
edly relative ! 

Accepting, then, as both necessary and as the first stage of reflec- 
tion that a " noumenon" or subject is required by what we regard as 
"phenomena," functions, properties, etc., no matter whether it is 
more than the subject of consciousness or not, we have satisfied the 
demand for a " cause " of some kind. At the outset we do not require 
to distinguish in the case, but only to see that the admission of " phe- 
nomena " involves a subject or ground. Now if there is only one 
cause, subject, substance, or "noumenon" in the universe, as with 
the Eleatics and Spinoza, all multiplicity is " phenomenal " or modal. 
We should have to explain every event in that case precisely as Spin- 
oza did, namely, as a mode of action by the Absolute. The efficient 
cause would be the absolute and there would either be no occasion for 
assuming a material cause or such a cause would be practically con- 
vertible with the efficient and express the nature of the action without 
implying either identity or difference of any kind as compared with 
the subject, though investigation might find the modes one or the other 
in a greater or less degree. In this monistic view we would always 
have to use the term ' ' cause " to denote a subject in action and not as 
an antecedent event, nor an antecedent of any kind, except as we find 
the subject to antecede certain of its acts or functions. There might 
even be no change or progress in such a reality. The "universe" 
might be either dead and inactive, in a static condition pure and sim- 
ple, or in a course of actions that involved no change of direction or 
form from the original state. In this case the subject would be the 
logical prius of its attributes or states. But this reality might be the 
center of incessant, or even only occasional, change and evolution, the 
agent of events, functions, and actions that are free from both a static 
and a dynamic inertia, if we may use this phrase. In this case the 
subject v/ould have to be regarded as the tefnporal prius of all changes 
or variations from any given static or dynamic condition. In this way, 
" cause " \vould acquire a temporal significance as implying in some 
sense an antecedent to that which it explained. 

But for various reasons the existence of multiplicity of any kind 
gives rise to the conviction that there is a corresponding multiplicity 
of centers of reference, of subjects, noumena, substances, ^vhether we 
choose to regard them as ultimate or not. The main fact of difference 
in the modes of the real is the cause of this tendency, thovigh reflection 



50 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

may show that difference of modal action or qualities is quite com- 
patible with unity or singleness of subject. But various needs of 
thought and action lead us to suppose a multiplicity of realities for the 
" phenomena" which we observe, instead of remaining content with 
the uno-nionistic point of view which the Eleatic and Spinozistic svs- 
tems adopt. The simple reason for this is that no proposition so ab- 
stract as that which describes the nature of things monistically can 
easily, if ever, be applied to the multitudinous details of existence with 
any more intelligibility than that of special Providence. As a conse- 
quence we have various kinds of substance which we treat as either 
simple or complex. If we go to the physical sciences \ve have the 
atoms and elements for our illustration of simple substances. Thev 
represent a pluralistic point of view, even if inquiry proves them modi- 
fications of some single ultimate reality. The terms matter and ether 
are also more general names for substances that represent a plurality 
of some kind. In the field of complex subjects wx have the many 
substantive terms which classify the manifold individuals of the inor- 
ganic, the vegetable, and the animal kingdoms. "Men," "trees," 
" stones," " water," etc., are illustrations and each individual under 
these classes will represent the same conception carried out to the 
hzjijna species. I am not maintaining that each center of reference 
or subject is an absolute of any sort. So far as the present problem is 
concerned they may or may not be this. It is merely a fact of " ex- 
perience " that complex realities are " phenomenal," transient, or dis- 
soluble into elements more permanent than themselves, and not a 
necessity of complexity, as the doctrine of inertia shows. We may 
require from the facts of change to reduce all complex substances to 
simple forms and these in turn to one ultimate reality \vhich we choose 
to call the 07ze absolute, but I am not concerned with the question 
whether this shall or shall not be done. All that I require to recog- 
nize is the invariable fact that men have admitted the existence of cer- 
tain multiple centers of reference, or subjects for " phenomena," and 
we may or may not regard them, according as facts determine, as more 
than relatively permanent centers of reference, to appropriate a con- 
ception of Lotze as descriptive of them. Whether they are or are not 
more than relatively permanent is a problem subsequent to the question 
of their existence and of the fact that we uniformly conceive them. 
I am quite willing to grant that there mav be circumstances under 
which it may be a dutv to reduce all multiplicitv of centers of refer- 
ence to one ultimate and absolute source, but if so, it \vill be for the 
reason that other facts require it than the simple rules which induce 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 51 

US to set up the relatively permanent centers which are most closely 
connected with common experience. 

But it is this fact that we postulate or accept the existence of mul- 
tiple subjects of " phenomena," whether permanent or transient, that 
gives rise to a new problem in causality, and whether )ve choose to 
treat these multiple subjects as simple or complex, as individual atoms 
or as a combination of them into collective wholes. What such a 
multiplicity of centers of reference iinplies is not merely the existence 
of subjects of attributes evolving changes in themselves by various 
modes of metamorphosis of a spontaneous sort, but a system of rela- 
tions between each other. If these relations consist of nothing but 
time and space we should have nothing but a " universe," or better a 
multiverse, of chaos, in so far as the actions of these centers of refer- 
ence were related to each other. But if there exist between these 
centers of reference, simple or complex, any sort of interaction, reci- 
procity of activity, commercium, or influence on each other, it would 
depend on the nature of this action to determine whether some sort of 
order could not be gotten into the multiverse of realities making it a 
universe of some kind, that is, giving it at least an setiological unity, 
if its ontological unity had to be held in abeyance. It is uniformly 
accepted that some such interaction exists, and this relation has been 
expressed by the term " cause," so that the notion has come to indi- 
cate both the subject which initiates or supports modal changes in it- 
self and the subject which initiates modal changes in anothor subject 
by an influence from without. In both we have the idea of efficient 
cause, that of instigating the occurrence of an event. In one it is that 
of initiating an event in the subject itself, and in the other it is that of 
initiating an event in another subject. In both the primary conception 
of " cause " is that of a subject acting. 

But just at this point another complication in the conception 
of causality arises. The evidence for the existence of any subject, 
substance, atom, reality, or noumenon is the occurrence of an event, 
its action or function. If the action originates in the subject itself 
the evidence can be realized only by direct knowledge of the fact 
or by the knowledge of circumstances that prevent the reference of it 
to an external subject. If there be any reason to seek the center of 
reference for the initiation of the fact realized in the subject experienc- 
ing it the causal action will be so attributed, and if there be reason to 
seek it in an external subject the judgment will so act. But in both 
cases functional action or " phenomena " of some kind must be the 
evidence of the particular center of reference adopted. In the process 



52 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of intellectual development our internal states come to be the evidence 
of subjective reference and certain coexistences and sequences of another 
sort present the evidence of objective reference. I am not concerned 
at present with the validity of this distinction but with the fact. These 
coexistences and sequences, " phenomena," modes of activity, func- 
tions, etc., are quite analogous in their suggestion of causal imputation 
to any that require the supposition of the subject knowing them. They 
have their meaning determined by an objective imputability, implying 
a subject-object, and we have the two-fold type of cause indicated 
previously in the ideas of a subject and object or two objects or two 
subjects related to each other in commercium. But as the determination 
of these coexistences and sequences for evidence is the first problem of 
all investigation, and as the coexistences and sequences coincide evi- 
dentially with their subjects as facts and involve the same relations ia 
space and time as their subjects there has been the tendency to identify 
the antecedent "phenomenon" with the " cause," abstracting from the 
subject, because we abstract from the subject in which the effect takes 
place and which is the consequent. Thus we come to think of events 
as causes and effect, in abstraction of their subjects which in reality are 
the true causes while the effect may be either modal or substantive. 
What in reality takes place is that one subject is supposed to act on 
another, not that one event produces another, though the formula for 
expressing it involves the representation of the relation in terms of the 
coexistences and sequences as events which are the evidence of noumenal 
realities, the tendency to this representation being caused by the fact 
that events in A produced by an external cause B are conceived in ab- 
straction of A in so far as their occurrence is concerned and so are 
thought of only as initiated facts independently of their nature, as 
affected by their being constitutively acts of A. Hence the habit of 
abstracting A in our conception of the effect as an event related to an 
antecedent leads to the abstraction of B in the " cause," and in so far 
as the evidential problem, the ratio cogfzoscendi, is concerned this is 
correct. But the 7'atio Jiendi requires us to take account of B as the 
ratio essendi requires us to take account of A^ the one expressing the 
initiating, the other the qualitative " cause." But the evidential concep- 
tion of the case leads to what has been called " empirical" causation, 
the uniformity of coexistence and sequence. But this is in fact not 
" causation " of any kind. It expresses nothing but the fact of temporal 
relation, whether regular or irregular, and never represents or includes 
the idea either of efficiency, that is, productiveness, or of transmission 
from subject to subject. This is clear from the persistent statement of 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 53 

Kant and others, and clearly admitted by Hume, that "causality" 
expresses necessary connection, something more tSxa-n factual relation 
-which is all that " empirical " causality can denote. Kant's funda- 
mental doctrine that we " know" only "phenomena " prevented him 
from having anything else but " empirical " causation, in spite of his 
■definition of causality as implying more than mere factual relation : 
for it is perfectly clear from his own statement and that of Hume, as 
well as the reflective conduct of all men, that necessary connection is 
more than factual, and that it transcends the " phenomena " to which 
it supplies the reason for their nexus. It is itself quite as noumenal 
in that sense as substance or the idea of a subject. Kant therefore 
had no right to the conception as a necessary datum of his system, and 
it is just as apparent that in his unguarded moments he conceived the 
matter as coexistence and sequence, and nothing more, simply using 
the terms " necessary" and " cause" where a more consistent thinker 
w^ould have used the term " uniform " w^ithout the implication of 
inevitableness. Hume's doctrine was, of course, rendered absurd by 
his own conduct. After telling us sceptically that the idea of " cause " 
was an illegitimate one, on the basis of the premises of Locke and 
Berkeley, he admits that we have it in the fonn of necessary con- 
nection, vsdiich experience does not contain. Then in the face of his 
limitation of " knowledge " or valid ideas to "experience" and the 
exclusion of causality from legitimate recognition while admitting that 
we have it as a fact, he proceeds to ex f lain the origin of the idea from 
association ! If he had said that it was nothing more than association 
and denied that we really had any conception of necessary as distinct 
from factual connection, there would have been less ground to criticize 
him. But he cannot be defended on the ground that this was v^^hat he 
meant, because he explicitly indicates that the necessary connection is 
•something not given in " experience," and while it is a pseud-idea it 
is caused by association, produced by it. Hume was too much of a 
philosopher to remain in the position of scepticism and had to use the 
idea of causality to explain its existence in consciousness while he 
denied its legitimacy ! In this he clearly transcends association by the 
conception of production which implies more than coexistence and 
■sequence, as he is accounting for a fact by something that does not 
contain it, while insisting that it shall contain this if it is to be 
legitimate. 

However w^e choose to denominate this " cause," or necessarv con- 
nection, whether as efficient, occasional, or material, an influence or 
iin injluxus physicus^ it is some sort of power to initiate in another 



54 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

subject the event that demands an explanation, or even to initiate it in the 
subject of it. It distinguishes the dissolvable from the indissolvable 
associations and so represents something which transcends mere " phe- 
nomena." I do not care how we get it, or whether we call it an 
intuition, a priori " conception," category, or functional mode of con- 
sciousness, or other name indicating an inexpugnable datum of thought. 
It is there as an ineradicable fact, quite as compulsory in its convic- 
tional power as our apprehensions \vhen they occur, though not having 
the same communicable nature as they and is also liable to inferential 
complications when the cause is to be made definite. But its incommu- 
nicable character is the important point to remark. All sensor}- con- 
ceptions have that character which enables us to point to them when 
they produce their own evidence in the " experience " of other persons,, 
but unless others can see the fact of a causal nexus in any instance it 
is not demonstrable or communicable. This is strictly true of all facts 
of " experience," as we shall see later, but it is more especially true 
of causality and substance than it is of the "phenomena" which evi- 
dence them, inasmuch as their transcendency involves that kind of a 
mental act for the perception of them that is required to see a ratioci^ 
native conclusion in geometry w^hen the Euclidean figures are merely 
apprehensions. It is easy to show what w^e mean by a triangle and 
we may make this clear to consciousness and fail utterly to secure the 
perception of the mathematical truths that it embodies. These can 
only be seen, not communicated or pointed out in apprehension. The 
most important point to remark, however, is the fact that the " cause "' 
is a noumenal fact in its nature and is implied by the circumstance 
that the mind refuses to permit the occurrence of an event to explain 
itself, and in one form or another seeks the explanation in something" 
else whether an event or thing, though in the last analysis it is always 
a thing that is implied, if only as the ground of the fact which is 
treated as the " empirical " cause. 

But where the conception of cause was not conceived as material,, 
that is, as the transmission of motion from subject to subject, the re- 
lation between antecedent and consequent was conceived as efficient 
and after the analogy of a subject causing its own actions without 
passing over into them, and hence the notion of efficient cause came 
to denote the influence or power of production between events as well 
as between subjects and their functions, the subject of the antecedent 
being abstracted from in the process. The tetiological conception 
thus takes three distinct forms, different from the ontological, accord- 
ing to the concrete representation of the source from which the effi- 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. 55 

ciency issues, or the relation expressed. The first is that of the 
subject in the production of its own actions, whether free or not. It 
is illustrated in supposed free agents, and the internal " forces " of 
chemistry, though the occasion for both may be externally determined. 
The second is that of an external subject exercising the power to 
initiate or occasion the occurrence of events in another subject. This 
is illustrated in all interaction between substances or externally related 
centers of reference, as a sound produced by impact, sensation of 
color by impressions on the retina, or any mechanical effect of momen- 
tum. The third Is that of necessary connection between events, upon 
which we have commented. This is the usual form of representing 
causality, because it is through the evidential "phenomena" of coex- 
istences and sequences that all objective causal relations are established 
and made clear. The existence and meaning of the last two con- 
ceptions are determined by the existence, real or supposed, of a 
plurality of centers of reference, and hence involve some kind of inter- 
action, however this is conceived, as a condition of any such £etiolog- 
ical and teleological unity as may be possible in a system of plural 
substances. But the point to be most distinctly noted is the con- 
ception of the aetiological problem which is involved and w^hich 
represents efficient causality in different concrete situations, though the 
relation between cause and effect is always the same in general and 
implies some sort of antithesis or distinction, either that between sub- 
stance and mode, or subject and object reciprocally affected, or " cause 
and effect" between events. In discussing setiological efficiency it 
will always be important to keep these three concrete forms of it in view. 
The ontological problem, or that of material cause, is just as com- 
plicated. The first is that of a compound formed from elements, or 
" stuff," constituting a whole. This whole may be a collective or 
organic compound constituted of units, the organic, of units of a dif- 
ferent kind, and the collective, of units of the same kind. The ap- 
pearance of properties in the compound not present in the elements 
offers a problem for subjective efficient causation, while those carried 
into the complex whole from the elements offer that conception of ma- 
terial causation which is expressed in identity of some kind between 
antecedent and consequent, or element and compound. This is called 
material cause for the reason that it expresses the nature of the result 
in terms of the antecedent reality, while the process of transition or 
change, whether from a simple to a complex condition, or from a state 
not containing to one containing certain new properties, is explained 
by the efficient or formative cause. 



5^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The same distinction is also necessary in the interpretation of the 
complicated "phenomena" associated with the interaction or com- 
mercium of various centers of reference, where composition is not the 
conception expressing their relation, but where it is "mechanical" 
intercommunication. Here we suppose that one subject or center of 
reference influences another and its action. This influence is con- 
ceived in two ways. The first is the transmission of motion or energy 
from one subject to another and the retention of its identity in at least 
all essential characteristics. This is the doctrine of injiuxus physicus^ 
or the " mechanical " transmission of the antecedent condition of A to 
B in which it is simply taken over as B^s condition. This implies 
that it is the same in kind and the conservation of energ)^ maintains 
that its quantity remains identical or the same. The second compli- 
cates "mechanical" or transmissive causation with a modification of 
the effects in the subject in which they occur. In chemistr}-, for in- 
stance, there is not always a definitive quantitative relation between 
the qualitative changes in the subject and the " mechanical " antecedents 
involved in effecting the proper juxtaposition of the elements for excit- 
ing alfinitative or other action. The same general disparity is obsen- 
able also in certain " mechanical "" phenomena " where apparently 
the process is only the transmission of energy. That is, there are cer- 
tain qualitative events in the effect not found in the cause or antecedent. 
In both these cases the variations are not reducible to the material 
cause alone assumed in the antecedent, and in addition to this the 
notion of the inception of an event or condition in B which B did not 
spontaneously originate, but which was instigated by A^ together with 
the necessity of accounting for all qualitative changes by the action of 
B^ suggests a causality ^vhich is more than material in its " mechan- 
ical" sense, while this latter is admitted to be a fact also, whether im- 
manent with the efficient cause or not. Hence, whether dealing with 
substances or modes, we seem to require the use of both an etiological 
or efficient and an ontological or material cause. The former accounts 
for change and the latter for constancy in that change and so is sub- 
ordinate to the setiological. 

If now there be but one subject or substance the ontological prin- 
ciple will apply to the exercise of its functions or activities. All 
changes, I do not say all " motions," but all changes, comprehending 
alterations of direction in motion, which in the abstract might be 
eternal, and qualitative changes or metamorphic " phenomena," in 
such a single subject \vould have to be explained aetiologically and on- 
tological causes would either have to be made convertible with the 



PROBLEMS OF SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY. SI 

aetiological or be applicable only to the similarities and differences in- 
volved in the " phenomenal " modes of the absolute. But if the centers 
of reference for events are plural, as in the atomic doctrine and in the 
actual existence of independent complex organisms, the complications 
arise w^hich I have just discussed, shov\dng that aetiological or efficient 
causes initiative of events may apply either to the influence of the sub- 
ject in producing its own modes or to the influence of the object in 
producing or initiating the modes of another subject, while the onto- 
logical or material causes may apply to the constitutive qualities by 
which we explain the similarity and constancy of kind either in the 
plurality of subjects, or in the transitions of substance from the simple 
to the complex forms and the transmissions of energy from subject to 
subject. 

It is thus apparent that, in the noumenological problem we have 
the general conception of cause at its basis, with this dividing itself 
into two more distinct types and their ramifications. The first may be 
called that of static cause or substance, and the second that of dyjtamic 
cause or property. The terms may not be as accurate as is desirable, 
but they are useful to connect the fundamental assumptions of physics 
with metaphysics and to distinguish between cause as ground and 
cause as activity initiating or constituting other effects. Bvit it is the 
existence of other facts than mere temporally and spatially related 
events that represents the metaphysical problem and I have chosen to 
denominate them in terms of "cause" differentiating it to suit the 
various forms in which causality expresses itself and concentrating all 
of them finally in the one center of reference which can be known as 
substance, all else being modes of activity either originated or trans- 
mitted, or both. The importance of thus subordinating the ontolog- 
ical to the aetiological conception will be apparent when we come to 
discuss the theological problem. All that noumenological questions 
require at this stage of the discussion is the acceptance of transphe- 
nomenal facts as completing the process with which human thought 
begins its curiosity in regard to the world. 



CHAPTER III. 
ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 

Epistemology has always been regarded as convertible with the 
theory of " knowledge." But there has also always been two equivocal 
characteristics about it. The first concerns the conception of " knowl- 
edge," and the second concerns the function of its theory. In regard 
to the second of these it has not always been made clear whether it 
was the function of epistemology to explain how we acquired 
" knowledge," the itiodus opera7idi of obtaining what we know as a 
fact, or whether it sought to determine valid as distinguished from in- 
valid mental processes. From the classification of the various prob- 
lems of science and philosophy in the previous chapter it is clear that 
it is there defined as an orthological science, namely, a science of 
validity in the intellectual activities of the mind. This will not inter- 
fere with the simultaneous study of the processes as modes of acquisi- 
tion, though it assumes that this is wholly subordinate to the purpose 
of distinguishing between the sources of truth and error. But I mean 
to treat it as primarily occupied with the determination of criteria for 
the rational acceptability of certain judgments as facts. That is to say 
I shall treat it as the determinant of the conditions of rational belief and 
certitude. I thus make it as comprehensive as the doctrine of " per- 
ception," in ordinary parlance, extending to the inclusion of Logic, 
or the doctrine of Ratiocination, and Scientific Method. This inakes 
it the science of the conditions of conviction. 

But it is the conception of "knowledge" that has given the most 
difficulty in determining the scope and function of the science. It is 
astonishing to find how infrequently "we observe any attempts to define 
the field which is universally assumed to represent that of epistemolog)\ 
Having indicated that "knowledge" was the peculiar territory of 
epistemology we should naturally expect some careful and clear defini- 
tion of what " knowledge " meant, or what it comprehended. But 
this most indispensable of all preliminary considerations seems to have 
generally been neglected. Kant, for instance, gives us his theory of 
" knowdedge " without any definition of what it was that he was doing. 
He now and then speaks as if " Wissenschaft " and Erkenntniss, were 
the same, but it is apparent that they do not always, if they ever coin- 
cide. "Wissenschaft" is properlv the body of doctrines which is- 

58 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. $9 

comprehended in " science " as distinguished from speculative philoso- 
phy. " Erkenntnis " is properly something more definitely limited to 
psychological processes and products that may not extend so far as the 
" knowledge " of the " scientific" mind. It is quite compatible with an 
ignorance with which " Wissenschaft " is not compatible. It may be 
apparent enough what Kant means by it in isolated cases, but what it 
meant in his general theory of " knowledge " is not indicated. In the 
discussion of "methodology" he distinguishes between " Wissen," 
" Meinen " and " Glauben " in a way to suggest an approximate defi- 
nition of " knowledge," but in fact he makes no attempt to connect 
the distinctions which he there adopts with the earlier discussion. 
Hence we are never sure whether he intends " knowledge" to be con- 
vertible with " science," which includes the methods and results of 
Induction as well as Deduction, or to limit it to those convictions 
which are characterized by certitude. The questions implied by this 
distinction are different from each other, though one may include the 
other. What we need to know is whether, in the problem of 
" knowledge," we are in search for a criterion of certitude, a method 
of assured convictions, or a method of systematization of experience. 
Certitude is connected with the "modality" of propositions, and is 
only one of the degrees or kinds of " modality " : systematization or 
the unification of experience is connected with the principles involved 
in the " relations " of phenomena and may include any kind and degree 
of " modality " whatever in judgment. Kant never remarks this fact. 
He is entirely oblivious to the circumstance that scepticism is primarily 
a question as to certitude regarding certain definite issues, and not at 
all a question as to systematization. He ought to have recognized ex- 
plicitly what he seems not even to have known, that Cartesian thought 
conceived "knowledge" in opposition to doubt or scepticism and so 
represented it as concerned with that of which we are primarily cer- 
tain. Kant's whole treatment of the problems of God, Immorality, 
and Freedom showed that he had acted under this assumption, but it 
does not appear anywhere else in his system. The problein of scep- 
ticism is one thing, and the problem of understanding or intelligibility 
is another, but Kant did not distinguish them as he should have 
done. 

A similarly misleading conception of " knowledge" is apparent in 
such w^orks as that of Hobhouse. I do not say that it is wrong, because 
a man has a right to use his terms as he desires, provided that he defines 
them. Also it is apparent that Hobhouse in his " Theory of Knowl- 
edge " is not so much occupied with a refutation of doubt as he is with 



«^?* 



6o THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the fundamental psychological principles of " science." Hence I am 
not concerned with implied criticism in the reference to his work, but 
with an illustration. It is apparent from his discussion throughout 
that he has in mind " scientific method" and not an answer to scep- 
ticism, lie comprehends in the work the wdiolc subject of Induction 
and probability, which cannot in any sense be made convertible with 
the certitude which the term " knowledge" so often implies. Hence 
we cannot go to his treatise for any such limitation of the problem as 
was found in the system of Descartes. 

It was the controversy between Greek and Christian thought that 
resulted in clearly distinguishing between " knowledge " as certitude 
and " knowledge" as intelligibility. It was latent in the dispute between 
Plato and the Sophists, but was suppressed in the superior interest of 
Plato and the Greek mind in the nature of reality rather than the theory 
of " knowledge " in terms of its certitude. But the issue was easily 
precipitated by the exigencies of Christian thought which proposed a 
number of beliefs involving a transcendental world whose assumed 
existence was a direct challenge to reason. The real or apparent con- 
tradiction to "nature" and "experience" in many of its doctrinal 
demands naturally evoked scepticism, and tended to limit the concep- 
tion of " knowledge " to the sensible world, especially as the distinction 
between the supersensible physical world and the superphysical or im- 
material world of faith was not an easy one to sustain. Consequentlv 
as time passed and doubt more and more made its incursions upon the 
objects of faith, the number of things which came within the purview 
of assured conviction decreased, and the conception of " knowledge " 
became strongly associated with the immediate processes that gave 
certitude. This is clearly illustrated in the procedure of Descartes. 
He tries to doubt everything, but finds that he cannot doubt the immediate 
deliverances of consciousness without intellectual suicide, " Knowl- 
edge" thus becomes convertible, in its initial stages, with the imme- 
diate deliverances of consciousness, whatever they are, and this is 
followed by a ratiocination equally valid, when founded on principles 
attested by some intuitive function. But certitude is the characteristic 
which defines the object of the Cartesian suit, and certain objects are 
assumed, if not admitted, to have less assurance for their reality than 
others. The conception suggests a graduated system of beliefs asso- 
ciated with various degrees of tenacity with which they shall be held. 
But the thought was not worked out by the Cartesians and seems not 
to have occurred to the mind of Kant. Yet it is chiefly this idea of 
certitude, and not intelligibilitv, that characterizes the term when dis- 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 6i 

cussing the problems of scepticism. It is true that intelligibiHty is 
closely related to the criterion of certitude and probability, but it is not 
the primary attestation of truth. It only expresses conformity to 
accepted fact or truth and does not supply either the primary or the 
ultimate evidence of conviction. 

As a further illustration of its equivocal import it should be re- 
marked that " knovs^ledge " has been opposed to ignorance, to doubt, 
to " opinion," to faith, and sometimes to belief. Ignorance is the 
mere absence of ideas and convictions. Doubt is something in addi- 
tion to this. It represents a more positive state of consciousness. It 
shows a consciousness of ideas about a subject though it does not in- 
volve belief of any affirmative kind on a given issue regarding it. It 
has both a positive and a negative implication. It is the absence of 
conviction affirmatively and a tendency to disbelief, or at least a sym- 
pathy with disbelief. Doubt thus involves intelligence, ignorance does 
not. Doubt at least involves a knowledge of ignorance, ignorance 
does not involve this so distinctly, though self-consciousness of igno- 
rance is possible and often a fact. But doubt usually involves besides 
this consciousness of ignorance also the feeling that evidence is so 
wanting in favor of a given assertion that the defect amounts to a posi- 
tive presumption against it. Hence knowledge and doubt are often so 
related to each other that they may be conceived as representing two 
opposed opinions on the same subject, doubt being the negative expres- 
sion for one of the opinions, and assumes incertitude where knowledge 
implies this confidence in belief. 

In regard to the other terms not much needs to be said. The com- 
parison between " knowledge" and " opinion" is largely due to the 
translation of Greek phrases. Opinion in Plato seems to have done 
service for " faith" or belief on authority and for conjecture and in- 
ductive probabilities of a low grade of assurance. " Faith" is a term 
with a mixed history, at first meaning only a quality of will toward a 
person or principle, such as fidelity or faithfulness, and afterward 
assent to propositions on authority or by mental actions distinct from 
ratiocination and direct experience of the facts believed. It was tluis 
opposed to " knowledge " as the acceptance of authority is opposed 
to the certitude of personal insight and experience. Belief is a term 
for any form of assent to truth and may be indifferently convertible 
with " knowledge " and assent with doubt, or with the sense of prob- 
ability only. But in all these contrasts " knowledge" is more or less 
associated with implications of assurance and certitude in regard to the 
fact or proposition alleged to represent truth. 



63 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

There is also another meaning of the term " knowledge " associated 
with this predicate of certitude. It is the immediacy of the perception 
of truth in certain cases, implying that any given truth, whatever as- 
surance we may obtain for subordinate truths, is an immediate object 
of consciousness, possibly of "experience" and possibly of "intui- 
tion." This conception is also associated with the philosophy of 
Descartes. What he realized was the possibility of doubting certain 
assertions or existing beliefs and as a consequence he asked in the true 
spirit of the sceptic, what belief is acceptable or can offer satisfactory 
credentials in its favor. What he saw was that neither absolute knowl- 
edge nor absolute scepticism was possible, that is, that we do not 
know everything and that we cannot doubt everything. The impossi- 
bility of universal scepticism is apparent in the single statement that 
the denial of all " knowledge" involves the truth of this denial, the 
"knowledge" and certitude that this denial is true. Hence, some- 
where between these two extremes lay both what we know and what 
we do not know and may doubt. In the effort to solve his problems 
Descartes postulated doubt and illusion about the existence of God, the 
soul, and the objects of our senses and finally found that he could not 
doubt the testimony of consciousness. As indicative of what its limi- 
tations were in the second Meditation he asserts that the mind is more 
easily apprehended than body. It is apparent in this position that 
little or no distinction can be drawn between being a state of conscious- 
ness and " knowing" it and nothing else. That is, the natural out- 
come of the doubt about any other objects than consciousness itself as 
absolutely certain and the evident directness or immediacv of this was 
that " knowledge " was more or less convertible with immediate or 
intuitive perception, with the implication that this perception did not 
extend to the direct consciousness of external "reality." Thus 
" knowledge " implied not only certitude but also intuition or imme- 
diate " perception," and all other objects were onl_v mediately or indi- 
rectly "known" or certified. One school, however, extended this 
intuition to the perception of external " reality " and another limited 
it to the states of consciousness as such, assuming that external " real- 
^,ity " was hypothetical or inferential. But both agreed that " knowl- 
>edge " in its ultimate elements was immediate and intiijtive, and so 
tended to give that connotation to the term. Now as the predicate of 
certitude had previously been associated with ratiocinative " knowl- 
edge " it was apparent, from the distinction between intuitive and 
ratiocinative truth, that immediacy and certitude did not necessarilv 
coincide, so that an equivocation arose between these two applications 



A ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 63 

of the term. This ambiguity is still further increased by the more 
general import of the term in which it denotes intelligibility or under- 
standing, while a fourth meaning is given it by its comprehension of 
all that is implied by " science" which includes inductive ideas with- 
out the certitude so commonly associated with the term " knowledge." 

As a consequence we have four distinct meanings for the term 
*' knowledge" in the parlance of science and philosophy, (i) Im- 
mediacy, or intuitive consciousness; (3) Certitude, or absolute as- 
surance in conviction, whether intuitive or ratiocinative ; (3) Legit- 
imacy, or acceptability in belief whether certain or merely probable ; 
and (4) Intelligibility, or systematization by any process direct or 
indirect, deductive or inductive, whether belief takes the form of a 
v^orking hypothesis or a proved fact. 

These four different meanings of the term " knowledge" represent 
as many different problems, or as many different solutions of the same 
problem. It is one thing, and a comparatively simple thing, to indi- 
cate the limits of immediate "• knowledge," if we define " imme- 
diate " as identical with having a state of consciousness, and it is a 
very different and much more complex thing to explain the various 
processes involved in both immediate and mediate " knowledge." It 
is one thing to indicate the first stage of certitude and it is another to 
show all the processes with which certitude is connected. It is one 
thing to show^ what is absolutely assured and it is another to show^ 
what is rational when it is not proved. It is one thing to have a 
rational conviction and it is another to realize that an assertion is 
intelligible whether believable or not. All these are questions that 
must be answered and kept distinct in the theory of " knowledge." 
They require separate answers, even though some of them involve in 
part the answers of the other. Thus the question of certitude may 
include the problems of both intuitive and ratiocinative " knowledge " 
while immediacy involves but one of the two functions. All this 
becomes much more complicated when we have to distinguish between 
simple and complex " knowledge," which involves the systematization 
and articulation of many experiences into an organic whole. For in- 
stance take the idea represented by Copernican astronomy, or Darwin- 
ian evolution. This involves more complicated mental processes than 
the apprehension of a color, and consequently requires a more elab- 
orate analysis of consciousness than the discussion of sensation only. 
It is apparent then that we have to analyze and define what w^e are 
tr}dng to determine in the theory of "knowledge." That analysis 
begins with the limitation of the term " knowledge" or a definition of 



64 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

its various meanings in order to learn just what the problem is, or what 
the problems are, with which we have to be occupied. Our solution 
will be simple or complex, according to the simple or complex nature 
of the thing we are investigating. If " knowledge" is limited to the 
elementary data of consciousness we must present the functions that 
give these data and invent some other term for the later acquisitions of 
belief and assured conviction. If it is any fact of which we are certain, 
we may require to study the reasoning processes as well as the simpler 
functions of sensation and apprehension. If it is mere intelligibility 
we may be satisfied with the explanation of conformity to past expe- 
rience whether we have any belief in " reality " or not. If it expresses 
any fact or truth that is rationally believable, or a legitimate object of 
belief, we shall have to include the whole problem of induction in our 
exposition. We thus see that our answers to scepticism wall depend 
on the various forms of " knowledge " that we have to consider. 

There are also two questions in the definition and analysis of the 
problem of "knowledge" which are very closely connected and yet 
require to be distinguished from each other. They are : " What do 
we ' know ' ? " and ' ' Ho-w do we ' know ' ? " The first question asks 
for the thing supposed to be " knowai," and the second for either the 
process or the evidence of the thing " known." It is not a lways clear 
w^hether it is the process or evidence that is meant, in the latter ques- 
tion, though the process is the only evidence available in some form o£ 
" knowledge." Let us examine both of these questions. 

Assuming any of the four meanings of the term "knowledge," 
there are still a number of distinct problems involved in xvhat we may 
"know." The object, of course, in ascertaining ■what we "know" 
is to determine the facts or rational beliefs which affect our actions. 
All beliefs have a relation to conduct whether they are followed or 
not, and the desire to determine what is rational or necessary to believe 
is based on the relation of these supposed objects of belief to conduct. 
There is also another motive in the desire. It is to have a basis for 
the deduction or support of beliefs that may be under dispute. But in 
any case, historically the things that w'e were supposed to " know "^ 
represented in the early period of Greek thought almost any super- 
sensible "reality." Philosophy reduced this to the jDhysical world 
and when scepticism had advanced far enough it reduced the " know- 
able " to sensations, as we have obsen^ed in the Sophists. But a super- 
sensible physical world w'as too fascinating an object of speculation to 
be surrendered to such limitations and it sur\'ived. It was followed, 
as w'e have seen, bv the superphvsical or spiritual world of Christianity. 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 65 

When scepticism began again to limit " knowledge " and belief, it first 
dissolved the subordinate doctrines of theology and finally threw out 
those of God, Immortality, and Freedom. All this was as much as 
to say that we could not " know" these objects, that they could not 
supply the proper credentials for rational acceptance. Finally scep- 
ticism, after assuming the possibility only for provisional purposes, 
discussed more seriously the limitation of "knowledge" to states of 
consciousness and assumed that we have no direct "knowledge" of 
the external world. That is, one stage of reflection, or theory, says 
that we cannot " know " God, etc. Another that we cannot know the 
" soul " : that we know nothing but ixiatter. Another denies that we 
can " know " matter. Another denies that we can " know " the ex- 
ternal " reality," whether it be matter or anything else. All these 
represent metaphysical problems of different schools and cause a vari- 
ation of the epistemological question according to the special object of 
"knowledge" coming under discussion. The perplexities involved 
in them when we simultaneously recognize the equivocal import of the 
term " knowledge" are still more obvious. 

The problem of what we ' ' know " has been briefly sketched his- 
torically alluding to the chief points of view in different periods to 
show how it had changed. It has at the same time been attacked in 
different ways. Sometimes the question of what we " know" is ap- 
proached w^ith a view to showing the chronological order in which 
certain ideas originate. This proceeds on the supposition that certain 
" knov/ledge " comes later than another. It is usual also to assume or 
indicate that it is our " simple knowledge" which comes first in order 
and our " complex knowledge " which comes later. For instance, our 
sensations are more primitive than our idea of God. Then again w^e 
may examine the simplicity and the complexity of our " knowledge" 
with reference to the comparative certitude of the two aspects of it, 
discussing the processes concerned without placing the stress upon its 
evolution. Now it is quite evident in either one of these modes of pro- 
cedure that the validity of what we " know" will vary with this sim- 
plicity and complexity of it, according to the nature of the processes 
and conditions connected with its derivation. Consequently we have 
complications of the content of our "knowledge" with the prior 
question of its simplicity or complexity. 

The second question, '•''How do we 'know'?" is an equivocal 
one. I have intimated this in the allusion to its demanding either the 
evidence or the explanation of an alleged phenomenon. We must ex- 
amine this equivocation more carefully. The question arises always 

5 



66 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

in a situation which involves or implies an argument or a desire for in- 
formation. For instance, if I make the assertion that matter as we 
know it is composed of small indivisible atoms, I may be asked, " How 
do you ' know ' ? " If I assert the existence of God, I may be asked, 
" How do you ' know ' ? " If I assert that man has an immortal soul, 
I may be asked the same question. If I say that we have an immediate 
" perception" of external " reality" I may be asked, " How do you 
' know' ?" If I say that Mr. Smith is a fraud, I may be asked the 
question. If I say that politics are corrupt I may be asked the ques- 
tion. In some of these cases it is evidence of the assertion that is 
wanted and in others it is the explanation of a fact. Hence we are 
not sure from the form of the question which it is that is desired. 
Hence I shall divide the question into two and shall call them the 
scientific and the sceptical questions. By the scientific question I shall 
mean a demand for the explanation of a fact admitted to exist. By 
the sceptical question I shall mean the demand for evidence that the 
allegation is a fact, with the implication that inability to supplv this is 
convertible with the falsity or incredibility of the assertion. The first 
question admits, the second disputes the alleged fact. Consequently 
when a man is asked, " How do you ' know' ? " he is at a loss to de- 
termine what is wanted of him. If he answers it by a statement of 
the modus operandi^ or process, of acquiring his "knowledge" he 
does not satisfy the sceptic's desire. If he gives the evidence for his 
allegation he does not explain the alleged fact. If he says that he does 
not know how he "knows" the fact he is liable to the retort of the 
sceptic that he believes wdthout evidence. For the sceptic is in the 
convenient position of sheltering himself behind an equivocal question, 
one that seems to be asking for information in regard to an admitted' 
fact and yet may in reality be intended to dispute it. Whenever the 
sceptic puts this question we should insist on knowing what it means, 
whether he is asking to have an admitted fact explained, to know the 
process by which " knowledge " as a valid fact is obtained, or whether 
he means to doubt the alleged fact. If he means the latter his question 
may contain a virtual assertion, and in so far as it does contain this the 
omis probandz rests on him. When his doubt is dogmatic, that is 
denia'l of the alleged assertion, he is subject to the rules of evidence 
also. If, however, he wants evidence as to the alleged fact he is en- 
titled to this satisfaction, or he must be allowed to maintain his sus- 
pense of judgment. On the other hand, if he means to ask for the 
explanation of an admitted fact we have alternative replies without 
implying an impeachment of the facts. We may offer an explanation 



AATA LYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 67 

in some process by which the " knowledge " has been gained. Or we 
may say that we do not know how we " know " and do not care, and 
that we are satisfied with the admitted fact, which is all that is neces- 
sary for the regulation of conduct. It may be interesting and in- 
structive to know how we " know," but it does not determine its 
validity to be able to assign the cause or explanation of the admitted 
fact. It only enlarges the range of our " knowledge " or the rationale 
of facts, not the truth of them. The primary question, of course, is 
the evidential one and here the sceptic has his rights. But he is not 
entitled to a confusion of the issue. He must be made to indicate 
whether he wants an explanation of admitted facts or the evidence for 
alleged facts. Two issues, that of fact and that of explanation, are 
concealed in this equivocal question and they must be distinguished 
from each other. If we are asking the sceptical question we must 
make that fact clear. If we are asking for an explanation of an ad- 
mitted fact, we must make that clear. We cannot be permitted to 
evade responsibility by reposing in equivocations, or insinuating that a 
failure to explain discredits a fact. 

The sceptical question, however, when it does not involve any dog- 
matic implications of denial, has an aspect of some importance in the 
problem of " knowledge." It is the difference between proof and 
insight in the matter of " knowledge " and the relation between the 
doubter and believer in regard to the kind of " evidence " necessary to 
make their convictions the same. When the sceptic asks his question 
he is seeking some sort of proof for the alleged fact. He desires 
grounds for conviction. Now " proof" may mean any process what- 
ever by which we obtain our " knowledge " or convictions, whether it 
be " experience," insight, or deductive and inductive argument. It 
alw^ays stands for some method of creating assurance or rationality for 
belief. If we suppose that "experience" or insight is the ultimate 
assurance of fact, and if the sceptic continues his query for every asser- 
tion that we make as a premise to the desired conclusion, thus imply- 
ing either that all " knowledge " is impossible or that " experience" 
is its attestation, we must leave him to his own resources, as universal 
scepticism puts him beyond the pale of rational consideration and the 
assumption that " experience " is the final source of truth releases the 
believer from the obligations of argument. But if it is argumentative 
" proof" that is expected, we may employ either or both deduction 
and induction in answering the question. In both w^e may have noth- 
ing more than an ad homi^teni instrument. Whether we appeal to 
some general truth which the interrogator accepts or to facts which 



68 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

we expect him to accept, \vc use an existing conviction in his mind to 
enforce the assertion at issue. If he admits the premises and the con- 
clusion follows, assuming that formal and material rules of reasoning 
have been complied with, he must cither contradict himself in further 
questioning the assertion, or maintain that his admission is merely 
pro forma .^ and then demand " proof " for the premises, and so start 
the regressive doubts which ultimately land him either in universal 
scepticism or the appeal to " experience." In this situation, as indi- 
cated above, the believer has no responsibilities, and if responsibility 
exist anywhere the sceptic must work out his own salvation. 

It will thus be seen that, even when we have agreed upon the 
meaning of our terms, the problem of " knowledge" has a two-fold 
aspect, that of acquisition and that of communication, the method of 
the subject's obtaining it and the method of establishing a similar con- 
viction in our neighbor. This is important because it will be discov- 
ered in the last analysis that no man can escape personal responsibility 
for the acceptance of truth. The functions of ratiocinative "proof" 
are purely social. It is only an ad Jiov2i7tem instrument for determin- 
ing the extent of the agreement between the members of the social 
organism. 

In this connection it will be interesting to remark the reason for 
the limitations of scholastic thought. It was throughout a defense of 
Christianity. This system defined clearly the antithesis between 
" knowledge " and " faith." The objects of the latter were not acces- 
sible to either sensory "experience" or syllogistic " proof," in the 
early stages of its intellectual development. But the incertitude 
which inevitably arose from such a position, the importance of the 
issues involved, and the natural habitual practice of employing ratio- 
cinative methods in secular affairs soon instigated attempts to " prove " 
the dogmas of the Church. The study of " nature," which could be 
prosecuted only by the inductive method, having been abandoned, 
there was left nothing but the Aristotelian logic for a resource, and 
besides, as certitude was the demand, nothing ratiocinative would 
supply this but the deductive syllogism. Then as the system had 
started with the assumption of " faith," or authority as the source of 
religious dogmas, its primary problem was the cojjiminiication of 
truth not the acquisition of it by ordinary "experience," which in- 
volved sensory processes. The syllogism was the onl}- instrument at 
command for this communication and consequently became the one 
scholastic organon for " knowledge." It was the revival of physical 
science and of empiricism in psychology that substituted induction 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 69 

and personal " experience " for authority and dogmatism in the deter- 
mination of truth. 

But as we have come to extol " experience " in the acquisition of 
" knowledge" it will be important to remark the equivocation in that 
term. If we limited its meaning to sensation we might have at least 
the appearance of a clear and unambiguous conception. But the term 
does not uniformly obtain so definite and limited an import. It is 
often used in the Aristotelian sense to include the functions of memory. 
Sometimes it denotes any individual impression, sensation or state of 
consciousness, and sometimes it denotes a group of connected and re- 
lated states. Sometimes it is equivalent to " perception " and some- 
times it is "perception" with memory. Sometimes it is a single 
realization in consciousness, and sometimes it is a series of such reali- 
zations with an increment at the end associated with memory and per- 
haps due to inferential functions. This latter may include all the 
mental processes beyond sensation and so attempt to solve the prob- 
lem of " knowledge " by repeating a word which had a narrower 
import in the school which started to use it. In some of its uses it is 
hardly distinguishable from " intuition." It is exposed to this sus- 
picion in all cases where it means an immediate apprehension or reali- 
zation of a fact other than merely having a sensation. That is to say, 
it does duty for either sensation or the combination of sensation and 
*' perception" of the immediate or intuitive sort. The equivocations 
in these various usages require to be eliminated before any clear 
progress can be made in solving the problems of epistemology. In fact 
all the phrases supposed to characterize " empiricism " have their con- 
troversial importance determined wholly by the limitations assumed to 
belong to the fact of " experience." If this fact, either by definition 
or implication, involves other functions than sensation pure and simple 
it opens wide the door to the doctrines which " empiricism " is supposed 
to dispute, and prevents all accurate characterization of the doctrines 
from which that theory derived its name. It seems that the prevail- 
ing philosophical speculation can never define in what specific sense 
it employs the term and the consequence is that its position, especially 
since Kant who never told us what " Erfahrung" was, has no definite 
relation to the problems of scepticism. It appears only as a con- 
venient expression to escape the maledictions of those who take 
offense at any term which assumes other than sensational functions in 
the process of " knowledge." " Intuitive " and " a priori " have been 
so discredited or misunderstood that it is not reputable to use them and 
one can save his character and evade unnecessary controversy if only he 



7© THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

employs the terms of his traditional adversary- while he conceals in them 
the meaning which this adversary is not acute enough to recognize. 
What the philosopher ought to remark is that it is not merely the defi- 
nition of " experience" that is the primary source of the controversy, 
but the still more ambiguous implications in the phrase " derivation 
from experience" when embodying "empiricism" in it, or defining 
that doctrine by it. We can make the term "experience" definite 
and clear by limiting it to sensation or to those states of consciousness 
which are conceived as occurrences and which are not interpreting 
acts, and even then have an equivocal and dubious phrase in that which 
speaks of the " derivation of knowledge from experience." The real 
crux of the problem lies in the uncertain meaning of this last phrase. 
The concept " experience" has no value in the discussion unless it rep- 
resents a comparatively simple element in a larger complex whole. If 
it stands for a complex totality which includes all that is at issue the 
statement that " knowledge is derived from experience " only begs the 
question as a definition may do. Hence the only useful conception of 
the term is that which treats it as a primary element in the total prod- 
uct of conscious reflection. Hence it will help to a useful analysis of 
the issue if we limit " experience" to the meaning indicated above, 
where it was suggested that it might be defined as any state of con- 
sciousness viewed as an occurrence, an effect, and not as an interpret- 
ing act. Then the question of " derivation "or " origin "of " knowl- 
edge " from this will be determined by various considerations: (i) 
whether "knowledge" is a sensational or intellectual process: (3) 
whether " knowledge" is limited to a sensational content, or extends 
to a supersensible content or implication : (3) whether sensation is 
representative or merely indicative of an "external reality": (4) 
whether " knowledge" extends to the "nature of reality" other than 
mental states, or is limited to the mere fact of it. The complications 
with which epistemology thus has to deal appear quite numerous. 
They cannot be unravelled, however, without an analysis and classifi- 
cation of the various theories of " knowledge" and " reality." This 
is the next step in the present discussion. 

The mere enumeration of the various theories of epistemology and 
metaphysics will show what the complications are with which we have 
to deal. They are sensationalism, intellectualism, rationalism, scepti- 
cism, phenomenalism, positivism, empiricism, experientialism, intu- 
itionism, apriorism, nativism, idealism, realism (psychological) , sol- 
ipsism, nominalism, conceptualism, realism (metaphysical), monism, 
dualism, pluralism, atomism, monadism, materialism, immaterialism, 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. Jl 

spiritualism, pantheism, theism, deism, agnosticism, transcendentalism, 
and perhaps some others. 

A little observation will reveal the fact that these various theories 
can be somewhat systematized. Besides they are not so distinct from 
each other in many cases as the difference in name might suggest. 
For example, sensationalism and phenomenalism are often identified. 
Intellectualism and rationalism at least partly coincide. Scepticism 
and agnosticism are identical or almost so. Empiricism and experi- 
entialism are quite identical. Pluralism, atomism, and monadism coin- 
cide in their numerical conception of the " reality " which they name. 
Apriorism, intuitionism, and nativism are closely affiliated, if not iden- 
tical. On the other hand, idealism is often opposed to materialism 
and to realism without implying that the latter two are identical. It 
is also at times associated with intellectualism. 

It is this peculiarly equivocal conception of idealism in modern 
philosophy that suggests the radical distinction which I mean to adopt 
between epistemological and metaphysical theories. This distinction 
should be apparent from the discussion of the two questions, " What 
do we ' know ' ? " and " Hovj do we ' know ' ? " I there indicated that 
the one referred to the nature of the object of " knowledge" and the 
other to the process or the evidence of it. Consequently I shall main- 
tain that it would be much more conducive to clear thinking if we 
should distinguish between epistemological and metaphysical doctrine 
in our conception and definition of their theories. In pursuance of 
this consideration I shall confine idealism and realism to the field of 
epistemolog}-. The reasons for this limitation will appear later. The 
following is a tabular representation of the various theories of " knowl- 
edge " and " reality." 

In this outline of the theories of " knowledge" and " reality" the 
logical method of division would imply that they represent distinct 
species, and to that extent differ in subject matter. But the fact is 
that no such principle can be carried out as is implied by the mode 
of classification. I can only assign a given theory an approximate 
position in the system and I have been governed partly by existing con- 
ceptions of it and partly by the necessitv of preserving the distinction 
between epistemological and metaphysical theories. If I could impose 
upon each term the meaning which the principle of division and classi- 
fication requires their relation to each other would be clear, and I 
intend that, in their- ideal conception, this shall be the case. But I am 
obliged to recognize that the current uses of the terms do not prevent 
many of them from coinciding in at least a part of their territory. 



72 



THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 



Thus empiricism and sensationalism have usually gone together and 
have represented the same general philosophic tendencies. They seem 
to differ only in the terms by which they express the same point of 
view, though, as a matter of fact, we may discover other slight differ- 
ences. Asrain there is a close relation between Lucretian and modern 



o ' 

.s 



Knowledge. < 



Origin. 



[ Empiricism, Experientialism. 
Historical. < 

( Intuitionism. Apriorism, Nativism. 

( Sensationalism. 
Functional. < 

( Intellectualism, B.aiionalism. 

f Subjective. 



Reality. 



^ Compass. 



Quantitative. 



Qualitative. 



Idealism. 
Realism. 
Monistic. 

Pluralistic. 
Materialism. 
Spiritualism. 



Objective. 
Intuitive, Natural. 

Hypothetical, 
no-monistic. 



I PI 



Spinoza. 

( Lucretian Atomism. 

( Leibnitzian Monadism. 
Dualism. Descartes. 



Pluro-monistic. 



Modern Atomism. 
Pan-materialism. 

Psychological Materialism. 
Pan-spiritualism. Monistic. 

C Theological. 
Dualistic.^ Philosophic. 

( Scientific. 



Atomism. Also the quantitative theories of " reality " are very' closely 
related to the qualitative theories. The Dualism of Descartes is iden- 
tical with Theological Spiritualism. The Uno-monistic theory of 
Spinoza is sometimes regarded as identical with Pan-materialism, and 
sometimes with Pan-spiritualism. The only difference between the 
quantitative and qualitative theories is that the former does not speci- 
fically characterise " reality " as such, but only its numerical aspect, 
wdiile the latter denominates by its terms the nature of it. The exact 
meaning and relations of these will be discussed later. 

But the most important question for examination at present is the 
relation between epistemological and metaphvsical theories which I 
wish to regard as distinct from each other, though connected with each 
both historically and to a certain extent logically. I refer to Idealism 
and Realism on the one hand, and to Materialism and Spiritualism on 
the other. The classification above places Idealism and Realism in 
the epistemological series and does not regard them as " ontological " 
theories at all. It is a fact, however, that Idealism has no such definite 
conception as is thus implied. It is in the conception of many of its ad- 
vocates as much of an " ontological " as it is an epistemological theory. 
This is proved by the uniform antithesis to INIaterialism which it is 
supposed to represent. Manv of our philosophers speak of jNIaterial- 
ism and Idealism as if they were mutually incompatible. It is regarded 



AJVALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 73 

as a sufficient refutation of Materialism to advocate Idealism. If a 
man wishes to so define it, there can be no objection. But two things 
are noticeable wdiich show that we cannot thus regard it and at the 
same time assume that we are dealing with the same conception in re- 
lation to other theories. They are : (i) that Idealism has generally 
been opposed to Realism, and (2) that its adherents have not displayed 
any desire to identify it with Spiritualism of any kind, unless it be Pan- 
spiritualism. Now Realism is not and has not been a metaphysical 
theory. Its advocates have not identified it with Materialism, but have 
as often, if not more frequently been Spiritualists of the dualistic sort. 
Realism has been the doctrine ^vhich maintained that the mind can 
transcend its states in its " knowledge," that it can " know " some- 
thing else than its own states, that it can " perceive" or posit an ex- 
ternal " reality " as the cause of its sensations. It is not necessarily 
involved in any assertion of the nature of that " reality." That issue 
may remain for decision after the fact of external existence has been 
asserted. It is true that usually the real/j-/i- have also pronounced for 
the material nature of their " reality " and possibly all materialists have 
been realists, but it has not been the primary motive of the realistic 
philosophy to identify the judgment that an external "reality" is 
" known " with the judgment as to tvhat that " reality " is. The main 
object of the doctrine was to justify the belief in something else than 
the subject's own mental states. It was primarily interested in refut- 
ing Solipsism. Consequently Realism has never properly been an 
" ontological " theory, however closely it may have been associated 
with ontological views. Now if Idealism is to be conceived as opposed 
to this conception it must represent a denial of the possibility of 
" knowing" any " reality " beyond the subject's own states. It must 
limit " knowledge " to subjective phenomena and deny the possibility 
of transcending these. This conception of it does not involve an ex- 
planation of " phenomena," but a mere cognition of them. The ma- 
terialistic theory is one that explains or attempts to explain " phenom- 
ena " as modes or functions of matter. To oppose that theory we 
must assume that there are " phenomena" which it does not explain. 
Hence to oppose both Realism and Materialism by the doctrine of 
Idealism we must assume both a cognitive and an explanatory function 
for the idealistic theory at the same time, though this would not be so 
objectionable if Realism and Materialism were identical. Consequently 
I must insist on a clear limitation of the part to be plaved by a theory 
of Idealism when it is or should be apparent that a theory of " knowl- 
edge " and a theory of " reality" are not necessarily convertible. 



74 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The history of the term shows clearly how it became ambiguous. 
It \Vas first applied to the philosophy of Plato in which the Greek 
word " idea " was employed to characterize the " form " of " reality " 
that was permanent and so did not characterize " phenomena " at all. 
In modern times many of our idealists limit " knowledge" to " phe- 
nomena " and on that ground proclaim their Idealism. The point of 
view and the assvimptions determining present philosophic tendencies 
have completely changed since Plato. His " ideas" in fact could not 
be distinguished from Epicurean atoms in some of their characteristics. 
They were eternal and they were supersensible. The difference was 
that the atoms were substances and the " ideas " were characteristics, 
though permanent modes of things. The term was not associated 
with consciousness as in modern thought. Its only approximation to 
anything like modern conceptions was in the fact that "ideas" were 
ascertained by mental processes above the senses, and the internal and 
external worlds, " subject and object," consciousness and physical 
motion, were the same in kind, so that the phrase, " thought and 
reality are identical," could well be used to represent the point of view 
of Plato, while the effect of Nominalism and the non-representative 
nature of consciousness in modern psychology, with its antithesis 
between " subject and object," has been to limit " ideas " to states or 
conceptions of consciousness and not to extend the application of the 
term to the universal and permanent qualities of any " reality" ^vhat- 
ever. Consequently there is little more than an etymological lineage 
between Platonic and modern Idealism. 

Again ever since Berkeley and Collier the term Idealism has assumed 
a meaning determined by the special exigencies of the system ^vhich 
proclaimed itself as such. Berkeley's system is called " subjective " 
Idealism, Kant's "transcendental" Idealism, Fichte's "subjective" 
again, though not identical \vith Berkeley's, Schelling's "objective" 
Idealism, and Hegel's " absolute " Idealism, with the tendency of later 
writers to conceive Hegel's system as " objective " Idealism \vithout 
wholly conceiving it as the same as Schelling's, In this variety of 
different or contradictory meanings it is impossible to obtain any useful 
conception of a general sort for the term in philosophical problems. 
The general import of it is too abstract to deal with the real questions 
at issue between separate schools. When it denotes equally positions 
that assume an antithesis and positions that assume an identity between 
" thought " and " reality," it is certainlv not clear and concrete enough 
to suggest any fruitful implications. This is especially evident in the 
disposition of many idealists to insist, when confronted with the diffi- 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 75 

culties of denying what the realists have contended for to maintain 
that Idealism and Realism are not opposed to each other but quite 
reconcilable. If this be the case there is no special importance attach- 
ing to the zealous defence of Idealism, as under such an assumption 
it can have no power to settle any problem whatever as affected by 
the very evident issues connected with sense perception. The only 
hope of clear thinking is to define Idealism and Realism in sufficiently 
definite terms to indicate what this issue is. This has been done for 
us historically by various men, one class of whom has contended that 
we can directly " know " an external world and the other that v\^e can 
only " know" it indirectly or not at all. There is a point, however, 
where, in spite of this opposition the two schools practically agree. 
The hypothetical realist admits that we do not intuitively " perceive'' 
external " reality," and contends that we can " know" it only htfer- 
entially. This position would coincide with what I have called 
" objective " Idealism in the- tabular classification, so that a clear 
opposition is found only between " subjective " Idealism, or Solipsism, 
and intuitive Realism, where the issue between the limitation of 
" knowledge" to the subject's own states and its extension to an ex- 
ternal or objective "reality" is defined with apparent clearness, the 
question as to the nature of either or both of them being left open 
for metaphysics to further determine. Without this distinction I 
w^ould maintain that there is no reason for the assumption of a differ- 
ence between the two schools in their epistemology but only in their 
"ontology," which depends on other assumptions than those necessary 
to test the compass or limits of " knowledge." In deciding the raftge 
of my " knowledge " I either assume the " nature " of the thing pre- 
sumptively " known " or I leave that entirely in suspense. Whether 
" knowledge " does or does not extend beyond the states of the subject 
to the " perception " of the object is one problem and whether it at the 
same time cognizes and posits the " nature," material or spiritual, of 
either subject or object is another problem. As for myself the assertion 
of what a thing is is distinct from the assertion that it is. I may have 
reason to affirm or believe that " knowledge " is either limited to " phe- 
nomena " or extends to " reality" other than " phenomena," and yet 
be ignorant as to how I should characterize, in any other terms, the 
thing involved in my " knowledge." 

The consequence of all this analysis is that I shall assume that 
the epistemological and the noumenological problems are distinct 
from each other, even if we admit, as I do, that the epistemological 
question comes first and prepares the way for clearer discussion of 



76 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the noumenological. I merely insist that the doctrine is not pre- 
determined by the epistemological. I shall in all discussions of the 
issues of philosophy use the terms Idealism and Realism as opposed 
points of view, in one of their meanings at least, and Materialism and 
Spiritualism as opposed doctrines in Metaphysics. So far as the con- 
ception of these terms is concerned, I shall assume that an idealist may 
be either a materialist or a spiritualist and the same with the realist. 
Likewise I shall assume that a materialist may be either an idealist or 
a realist, and the same with the spiritualist. I merely use the term 
" Spiritualism " to mean the doctrine that maintains the existence of 
something immaterial in the w^orld. I am simply following the example 
and usage of Sully in his recent work. I mean therefore to divide the 
field of epistemological investigation between idealistic and realistic 
claims for the sake of studying the facts in the light of one or the other 
point of view, and for the same purpose to divide the " noumenological " 
or metaphysical field into the materialistic and spiritualistic claims. 

I shall not, however, at this stage of the discussion enter into the 
merits of any of these doctrines. I have been concerned only with so 
much of the history and analvsis of fundamental conceptions as would 
indicate how the complexities of these various problems should be ap- 
proached. By thus indicating the order and nature of the problems 
to be discussed we are prepared to do one thing at a time in the investi- 
gation before us. This whole subject has its preliminaries and these 
are the clear definition of the issue to be decided. It is not enough to 
thresh over the old straw^ in terms that either beg all questions or that 
show no intelligent conception of the real perplexities which the phil- 
osophical student has to face in the controversies connected with the 
doctrines suggested in the classifications in this and the previous chap- 
ter. These perplexities involve a series of connected questions in 
which the answers to the first do not necessarily carr}- with them the 
answers to the succeeding ones. " Knowledge," both in respect of its 
process and content, is a complex affair and it is necessary to deter- 
mine the elements of that growth and the order of their manifestation. 
In this order I shall consider the epistemological as first and inde- 
pendent of the "noumenological" and as not determinative of the result 
in the noumenological. It is possible also to discuss the process of 
"knowing" without deciding any choice between Idealism and Real- 
ism, but merely ascertaining how that which is at least called "knowl- 
edge" is acquired and regarded as valid. This last course, as a matter 
of fact, is the one that will be adopted, and this purpose demands that 
I should at least brieflv indicate how this can be done. 



AJVALYS/S OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. TJ 

The first step in the accomplishment of this end, after indicating 
the theoretical problems involved in the final results of discussion, is 
the presentation of the psychological scheme upon which further in- 
vestigation will be based. In all discussions of epistemological systems 
we suppose certain primary factors in the problem. Sensation is the 
first. This is usually followed by " perception," memory, association, 
conception, judgment, reasoning, intuition, etc. Apprehension often 
does duty for " perception." In English psychology all these acts of 
the mind, said to be acts of corresponding " faculties" are supposed 
to be distinguishable from each other in kind. That is, they are as- 
sumed to represent distinct functions of the mind and so to be treated 
as separate elements in the synthetic whole of " knowledge." But I 
think that this representation of psychological "faculty" can be 
greatly simplified, and consequently improved to the same extent. 

If we adopt a Kantian conception and divide the general functions 
of the mind into receptive and active, receiving and interpreting func- 
tions, we shall have all the cognitive capacities reduced to two general 
types. Kant of course had three fundamental functions, namely, Sen- 
sibility, Understanding and Reason. The last two should be reduced 
to judgment, as I propose to do here. We should then have sensibility 
and judgment as the two general functions implicated in " knowledge." 
But Kant's conception of sensibility included Locke's " reflection," or 
self -consciousness, the consciousness of our own mental states other 
than sensations, while the term "sensibility" in English philosophy 
and psychology generally is either limited to external " experience," 
that is, sensation, or applies also to certain emotions, and does not 
connote the " internal " mental states. Besides neither " sensibility" 
nor sensation suggests the "perceiving" or apprehending act which 
is so necessary to the conception of " knowledge," but only a relation 
to both the subject and the object. Hence I think it better to adopt 
some term which shall comprehend the intuitive functions ascribed to 
or associated with both sensation and the consciousness of our own 
mental states. I shall adopt for this the term Apprehension or Intui- 
tion, meaning thereby the immediate act of consciousness which presents 
facts of " experience." A fuller account of it will be given in later 
discussion. But I shall divide it into two forms in so far as its object 
matter is either sensation or the consciousness of mental acts other 
than sensation. For purposes of classification and brevity of expres- 
sion I shall use the word mentatio7i to denote the mental states other 
than sensory. Sensation and mentation, therefore, will represent the 
two " phenomena " or states of consciousness which are direct presen- 



78 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tations, that is, present as acts and as objects of consciousness. To 
these I sliall add a third which will represent a present state but a past 
object. This is Memory, or perhaps more correctly. Recognition. 
These three may be treated as subdivisions of Apprehension or Intui- 
tion, or at least as different types of " phenomena" with which Ap- 
prehension is associated as the simplest function of " knowledge." 

I shall then embrace all other intellectual functions in the term 
Cognition, or Judgment in the widest acceptation of the term. I dis- 
miss Conception as only a form of judgment and not as a process in 
any particular unique. Cognition shall represent all the higher acts 
of the mind in the synthesis of " knowledge." It differs from Appre- 
hension or Intuition in this fact of synthesis which involves the con- 
sciousness of relation, as I do not intend Apprehension to imply. I shall 
subdivide Cognition or Judgment into Perception, Conperception, Ap- 
perception, Infero-apperception and Genero-perception. The technical 
meaning of these terms will be considered in the proper place. But I 
may remark here that it is possible to treat Infero-apperception, which 
I conceive as convertible with Ratiocination, as a subdivision of Ap- 
perception. I might divide Apperception into simple and complex 
apperception, the former being equivalent to Judgment in the ordinary 
logical sense and the latter equivalent to ratiocination, both partaking 
of the nature of apperception. The scheme of mental function, there- 
fore, to be considered in the theory of "knowledge" may be sum- 
marized in the following manner, treating them all as forms of intel- 
lection. 

f Sensory. Sensation. 

(Apprehension or Intuition, -j Mental. Mentation. 
L Mnemonic. Memorv, or Recognition, 
fcon^p'rception. 
Cognition or Judgment. -| Apperception. 

I Infero-apperception. Ratiocination 
L Genero-perception. Generalization. 

The only reserv^ations and cautions to be mentioned at present in 
regard to this scheme pertain to the use of the word " sensation." 
According to the principle implied in its classification it expresses a 
species of apprehension. But I have purposely described the types of 
apprehension in adjectival terms to indicate that I do not ^vish to 
identify sensations ivholly with what I mean to express by apprehen- 
sion or intuition. We shall find on more careful examination that the 
term " sensation" is often used in a way to distinguish it from the 
properly " knowing" act assumed to accompany it as one aspect of 
the total consciousness occurring at the time. But I include the term 
in the analysis for the purpose of recognizing its fundamental place in 



A.VALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. 79 

the theory of " knowledge." The main purpose is to secure as simple 
an outline as possible of the primary functions which I mean to dis- 
cuss in the investigations of epistemology. 

The most of these terms I shall define and explain technically w^hen 
I come to discuss the problems involved, but there are some important 
conceptions whose import must be understood in any examination of 
primary questions. They are not terms wdiich express the functions 
involved, but which affect tlie interpretation of the facts connected 
with these functions, and hence their import should be understood at 
the outset. 

When I use the terms " mind " or " soul " I shall mean a subject of 
consciousness other than the brain. This, however, is only a definition 
of the terms. I shall not intend to imply by them that there is in 
reality any such thing. The existence of such a subject must be 
treated as a qusesitum, not a datum. But I shall use them to denote a 
subject rather than a " phenomenon" of that subject, because we have 
the term consciousness to denote the functional " phenomena " of that 
svibject, and hence I prefer to remain by the historical uses of those 
terms instead of violently distorting them, as the phenomenalist does 
when he finds that he cannot admit them into the sphere either of 
" known " things or of " realities " other than the brain. He ought 
to see that it is possible to accept their traditional meaning and to 
deny their existence as supposed, just as men do in the case of ghosts, 
or hobgoblins or devils. I covild make them convertible with the term 
" subject " except for the fact that I shall use this term for the basis of 
any kind of attributes material or mental. In psychology and episte- 
mology, of course, subject will always be synonymous with " mind " 
or " soul," if the existence of this be assumed, but synonymous with 
brain or organism, if " mind " be not assumed. That is " subject " will 
be a term indifferent to the theories of materialism and spiritualism 
in noumenology and merely denote that consciousness has a ground, 
substratum, or "reality" of some kind of which it is a function, 
quality, or attribute. It therefore does not exclude the supposition 
that the organism might turn out to be this as the result of inquiry. 
But "mind" or "soul" means to exclude the brain or organism by 
definition, but I shall leave the fact of this open to investigation in my 
use of the terms. 

The term " object " is equivocal. In strict consistency with the 
more limited import of the term " subject" it should denote only the 
non-ego, or external " reality." But as a matter of fact it may include 
along with this also any mental fact as an " object" of consciousness, 



8o THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

that is, a fact with which consciousness may be occupied or which 
may be the subject matter of its perceptions and reflections. These 
additional facts as "objects" may be either the "subject" of con- 
sciousness itself, the subject-object of Hamilton, or the states of con- 
sciousness themselves. The content meaning of the term may thus be 
threefold, as described. Which of them is intended in any specific 
case can be determined by the context. 

The term ' ' phenomenon " is one that may give a good deal of 
trouble. It has not always preserved an identical meaning amid the 
vicissitudes of philosophic speculation. It has formed the basal con- 
ception of various systems without being as carefully defined as it 
should have been and plays a very equivocal part in present thought. 
But it will not be necessary to unravel the perplexities incident to its 
general usage, as I shall not employ the term in the earlier discus- 
sions of this work to denote anything more than a fact which requires 
to be explained as opposed to such as may not require this. I shall 
not limit its import to either the " subjective," or to the idea of " ap- 
pearance," or to that of " change." So far as epistemological investi- 
gations are concerned it may be any one or all of them. I shall use it, 
until further discussed, to denote any fact within the purvdew of con- 
sciousness, whether subjective or objective, which requires to be ex- 
plained in some way, it may be as an effect, as an attribute, as an 
" appearance," as change or an event, whether subjective or objective. 

There is an implication associated with the term "knowledge" 
which it is important to notice. It is the supposition that to be 
" known " a fact or thing must be " in consciousness," or even must " be 
consciousness." The expression that " knowledge is limited to our 
own mental states " has a tendency to create a definition for the term 
" knowledge" which makes it convertible with the limits of conscious- 
ness as a function of mind. This is to implv that to " know" is to 
" have'^ a state of consciousness as distinct from having an object of 
consciousness other than the state itself. If " knowing" is " having " 
a state of consciousness, that which is other than this state, or transsub- 
jective, transphenoinenal, or objective as external, is not " known," as a 
matter of course, though absolute certitude characterize our convictions 
regarding it. We shall have to discuss this equivocation much more 
in detail when dealing with concrete problems. It suffices here to 
remark it as a part of the preliminar\^ analysis of epistemological con- 
ceptions. 

The term " reality" is another which should have the same pre- 
liminary consideration. This term has three different meanings which 



AJVALYS/S OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. Si 

affect the problem of " knowledge." The first of these is that which 
is implied in the antithesis between the " real and the unreal " which 
is the meaning in ordinary parlance and of which a great deal is made 
by T. H. Green in his discussion of Hume and the problem of Ethics. 
It is the conception which many of our philosophic students pick up 
without examining its historical import in the field of philosophy and 
then use for the interpretation of systems which did not employ it in 
that sense at all. In this common conception of the " real " the mean- 
ing is that of fact, the actual, or the existential as opposed to that 
which is non-existent or not a fact of " actual experience." Some- 
times this is expressed by the distinction between the actual and the 
imaginary, in -wdiich the imaginary denotes what is not a fact of ex- 
ternal existence, but only a product of fancy. 

Somewhat closely allied to this common meaning is that in which 
the term " real " denotes one aspect of the antithesis between the " real 
and the ideal." This is the opposition between the subjective and ob- 
jective, between the internal and the external. This may or may not 
coincide with that between the actual and the imaginary. Both the in- 
ternal and the external, the subjective and the objective, may be actual, 
or both imaginary. But the internal and the external, the subjective 
and the objective are not the same, even when we suppose them the same 
in kind. Hence in the theory of perception, ever since the contro- 
versy with Nominalism, the term " real" has stood for an objective 
or external fact or thing as opposed to what was merely mental though 
actual. The more general meaning of common parlance was simply 
disregarded, not denied. It was the exigencies of certain philosophi- 
cal problems that imposed a technical import upon the term. 

This second meaning of the w'ord had grown out of a relation to 
the preexisting conceptions of the Platonic doctrine. The fortunes of 
this should be briefly characterized. In the first place, the problem of 
Plato was to define the limits of the permanent and the transient, the 
eternal and the ephemeral. He expressed the permanent by the term 
" idea" or " form," and the term " matter" was identified with the 
transient or " phenomenal." The " ideal" of Platonic parlance thus 
became identical with the " real " of modern parlance, wherever " real " 
denoted the permanent, or the universal. But in spite of the fact that 
Plato made his " ideal " the permanent, he still conceived it as a char- 
acteristic, a property, quality, function, activity, or modal aspect of a 
supersensible existence. This supersensible existence he w^ould not 
call " matter" because he chose to limit this term to the " phenome- 
nal" aspect of things, the changeable or transient characteristic. But 

6 



82 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the philosophy of Lucretius completely reversed the conceptions of the 
Platonic " matter" and " form," and the adoption of the atomic theory 
in modern thought perpetuated his conceptions of the case while those 
of Plato did not survive outside the history of philosophy. Lucretius 
made " matter " eternal and " form " ephemeral. In his conception 
" forms," " ideas," aspects, modes vv^ere the transient resultants of com- 
position, or the compounding of atoms, while the atoms which were 
material were permanent. Hence assuming that mental phenomena 
were the activities, characteristics, modes, etc., of the composition of 
atoms representing the organism the Lucretian philosophy easily de- 
cided its attitude on the question of personal survival after death. 
" Ideas," being activities of a compound subject were phenomenal and 
transient. Now when nominalism established itself " ideas," being 
mental modes, became purely subjective and the " real" became con- 
vertible with matter which was the objective or external fact, the 
transsubjective. The " ideal and the real " which were identical in 
Plato became exclusive of each other in modern thought, and as the 
"real" in the materialistic theory became convertible with matter 
which was eternal it suggested the antithesis to describe, in modern 
parlance, the doctrine of Plato as turning on the opposition between 
the " real and the phenomenal," or the constant and the changeable. 
Hence the term " real " is often taken to denote the permanent as op- 
posed to the transient without regard to the question of the subjective 
and objective. Consequently it is only by adopting the conception of 
" real " as just defined and the Platonic conception of " ideal" that we 
can ascribe the Platonic philosophy as identifying the " real" and the 
" ideal." In Lucretian and nominalistic thought this identity would 
be denied, but only because the meaning and implications of the terms 
had partly or ^vholly changed. In nominalistic psychology where the 
question related to the distinction between the subjective and objective 
the " ideal and the real" would express the opposition between inter- 
nal and external, the mental and the material, as things different at 
least numerically if not in kind. In metaphysics, especially of the 
materialistic type where the material and the mental represented the 
antithesis between the permanent, and the transient, and the "real" 
was taken for the material, the antithesis which represented the third 
import of the term " real" is expressed in the terms " real and phe- 
nomenal." It is apparent, therefore, from all this analysis that we 
have in the ^vord " reality " the suggestion of a variety of problems 
which must be distinguished from each other. In epistemologv this 
problem regards the " ideal and real " in modern parlance, the sub- 



ANALYSIS OF THE PROBLEM OF KNOWLEDGE. S3 

jective and objective, or internal and external, in the theory of percep- 
tion. That is, the problem is to determine whether and how the mind 
can " know" anything transcending its own states, that is, something 
at least numerically if not qualitatively different from itself. The con- 
ceptions expressed in the antitheses between the actual and the non- 
existent, the " real and the unreal," on the one hand, and between the 
permanent and the transient, or the " real and the phenomenal," on the 
other hand, have no interest or importance in the theory of " knowl- 
edge " as so defined. They may have an interest in noumenological 
problems. But whatever this may be and v\^hatever further discussion 
may be necessary will be taken up later. All that is necessary at pres- 
ent is to recognize the equivocations of the term " real " and to define 
the epistemological problem which must be the subject of immediate 
consideration. This is the limits of " knowledge." 

But the "limits of knowledge" is also an ambiguous expression. 
What I have indicated as a conception of certitude associated with it 
also becomes connected with tlie problem of its compass. Usually, of 
course, " limits " refers to its compass or range. But the demand for 
what is certainly " known" as opposed to scepticism and incertitude 
has created the conception that " knowledge " implies certitude, while 
the controversy about its compass, its inclusion or exclusion of external 
" reality," has created the conception that it implies a definite content 
to which it is confined. Both assumptions become confused in the 
general problem which may be defined as consisting, on the one hand, 
of a question regarding the limits of certitude, and on the othfer, re- 
garding the limits of compass or content. Hence in the epistemologi- 
cal problem I shall have to discuss both these aspects of it. 



CHAPTER IV. 
PRIMARY PROCESSES AND DATA OF KNOWLEDGE. 

I HAVE avoided the use of the term " elementan' " in the caption 
of this chapter because I do not wish to imply that the processes of 
which I shall treat in it are elements of a complex totality. They may 
be this, and are undoubtedly this in some conceptions of the term 
" knowledge." But in others where that term denotes so simple and 
unanalyzable a process as " intuition," elementary would not correctly 
describe it except we mean unanalyzable instead of a part of a whole 
by it. But whether the processes and data which I am to consider at 
present are elements or not, they are certainly primary, that is, prior 
to the complex conceptions which are denominated as representative 
of " knowledge." Whether we consider them elements entering into 
these complex products they are facts which have to be examined 
either as the conditions of these products or as processes and data in- 
volved. Hence it is best to avoid debatable suggestions and to call 
them primary. 

In calling the processes, which this chapter is to discuss, " pri- 
mary " I shall remain indifferent to the question whether they are 
elementary or complex. The habit of one school, when speaking of 
them as " elementary " has been to regard them as " simple " and unan- 
alyzable, and another as highly complex. I am willing to regard them 
as either simple or complex, according to the relation in which they 
are viewed. For the problem of " knowledge " which studies mainly 
the validity of mental processes for trvith we regard them as " pri- 
mary " because we start with them, as sufficiently well known without 
that peculiar analysis which experimental psychology gives them, to 
deal with the main problems of reality. 

The psychological analysis in the previous chapter represents the 
fundamental processes of " knowledge " as being intuition and cogni- 
tion, or apprehension and judgment, with sensation, mentation and 
recognition or memory as subdivisions or species of the first of these. 
I have already remarked that I did not mean to consider them as tech- 
nically such subdivisions, but as facts in connection with which appre- 
hension occurred and the adjectival mode of qualifving the species of 
apprehension was the better indication of my real intention. Conse- 

84 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 85 

quently I shall separate here the discussion of these various processes 
and data as if they were independent problems. Apprehension is a 
concomitant function of all the others while they have to be considered 
for the purpose of making clear factors in the general problem of 
" knowledge " that are not always analyzed or defined with sufficient 
care and reference to fundamental issues. I begin with sensation. 

Sensation. 

Philosophers and psychologists are practically agreed as to the 
chronological place of sensation in the problem of " knowledge" and 
as to its primary importance. The dispute, when there is any, turns 
about its content and significance. If we had any evidence that some 
other state of consciousness initiated " knowledge " we could depreciate 
the importance of sensation. But it appears, according to general agree- 
ment, that sensation must be prior to the exercise of all other functions 
of mind, and whether this be strictly true or not, it is certainly pos- 
sessed of an origin that suggests this and must be discussed accordingly. 

Assuming that it is the prius of all intviitive and cognitive " knowl- 
edge," there are two questions regarding it to be considered, namely, 
(i) its definition, and (3) its interpretation, or its relation to the gen- 
eral content of " knowledge." 

It may be doubtful whether there has been any uniform conception 
of the nature of sensation. It is a " phenomenon " so related to others 
in temporal juxtaposition with it, that confusion could easily occur 
regarding it. This sometimes takes place when the question arises 
whether sensation shall be treated as a state of consciousness. In some 
systems of philosophy " consciousness " is so conceived as to imply 
that sensation is not such a state and it tends to become identified with 
the supposed neural processes antecedent to and conditioning con- 
sciousness. But I suspect that this conception of it grows out of the 
desire and necessity of distinguishing it from what is called " percep- 
tion," on the one hand, and that conception of " consciousness," on 
the other hand, which more or less identifies consciousness with " self- 
consciousness." But if "we simply conceive or define " consciousness " 
to be that concomitant mental act which is itself, or is aware of any or 
all facts of " experience," or as Hamilton calls it, the " complement 
of the cognitive energies," we shall have reason to regard sensation as 
one of the facts accompanied by " consciousness," or as a state of it. 
I shall so regard it, inasmuch as I conceive " consciousness " to be 
the most general and essential functional activity of the subject and 
representing that awareness of facts, not merely awareness of self. 



86 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

which distinguishes it from what is regarded as unconscious and 
physical. 

I mean therefore to conceive sensation as a state of conscious- 
ness. But our difficulties begin when we attempt to distinguish this 
state from others in the same group. When we define an object, fact, 
or phenomenon we are expected to name its conferentia and differentia, 
its essential characteristics, both common and distinctive. Thus I may 
define a " stable" as a building qualified for the housing of animals ; 
"water " as a liquid composed of hydrogen and oxygen ; a " newspaper " 
as a medium for the publication of daily events ; a " horse " as a verte- 
brate animal, etc. These may not be technically accurate, but they 
illustrate sufficiently the principle which I wish to emphasize and 
which is recognized universally as necessary to proper definition, 
namely, that it must distinguish the thing defined from the others by 
specifying the qualities which are common to it and certain others and 
more particvilarly those which are not common, but differential. This 
condition is exemplified in the illustrations given. The qualities de- 
fining and distinguishing them inhere in the object defined. They do 
not express relations to something else that may be variable, but prop- 
erties of the thing defined. Now it must be said of sensation that it 
is impossible to define it in this way. We can name its general char- 
acteristic, that is, consciousness, but we cannot name its differentia as 
a quality of the " phenomenon " defined, and hence there is a sense in 
which we have to say that sensation cannot be defined. But we can 
distinguish it sufficiently from other mental states by indicating one 
of its differential relations ^ and then leave to the individual's intro- 
spection the recognition of what is meant. With this explanation I 
shall define sensation as that state of consciousness tvhich is produced 
by the actioti of an external stimulus upon the subject of it. This 
definition, if such it can be called, sufficiently distinguishes what ^ve 
are talking about from such facts as " perception," memory, emotion, 
association, self-consciousness, etc. We have a fixed relation to stimu- 
lus as the determinating factor of its distinction from other mental acts. 

But however acceptable this definition may be it is not self-explan- 
atory and it does not remove all difficulties in the determination of its 
full meaning. We require to examine more explicitlv the peculiarities 
of the " phenomenon " so defined. The fact is that sensation, whether 
we define it as I have done or in any other way, is an exceedingly ab- 
stract term. It is a double abstraction as defined. The stimulus is not 
an integral part of the " phenomenon," but an independent and related 
fact, so that sensation thus defined is simply an element or term in a 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 87 

series of facts. Apparently at least, it cannot be conceived apart from 
this environment. But this aspect of its abstract nature gives very 
little difficulty when compared with the second, which represents it as 
2i general concQ^X..! not a concrete member of a series, a view of it 
which might be regarded as very clear in spite of its abstract charac- 
ter. But it is a general concept which comprises in its extension such 
different " phenomena " that w^hen we seek for a common character- 
istic we can find none but this relation to an external stimulus, and 
this is not a characteristic of the '•'' phenomenon" at all. It is 
simply a uniform and necessary concomitant and condition of its occur- 
rence. Hence it is extremely difficult to give any clear idea of the 
term's meaning except by illustration, and this is to appeal to more 
specific and concrete facts of " experience," and so to name the phe- 
nomenal reactions of the special senses in each case. We should have 
to name sensations of color, sound, touch, etc. 

When it comes to specifying illustrations of what is meant by the 
term sensation the origin of the word and its associations in common 
" experience " prompt the habit of indicating tactual "feelings" as 
the proper representatives of it. Whatever w^e may think of the in- 
adequacy of such " phenomena" to express all that we mean by the 
term, the natural tendency is to illustrate the case by an appeal to 
touch and any illustration tends to leave the impression of convertibil- 
ity in those terms, as this is all the definition that common discussion 
employs. But -when we come to strict psychological and epistemolog- 
ical discussion it is apparent that such a device will not avail much. 
W^e have to include other sensory " experiences" in our conception of 
the term. It applies, according to the definition adopted above, to 
visual and auditory phenomena as well as to tactual, sapient, and olfac- 
tory. Now it is characteristic of our tactual sensations that they are 
definitely localized on the periphery of the organism while those of 
vision are not so localized, and perhaps those of hearing are not so 
localized. Vision, as Hamilton remarked, is usually conceived as a 
percipient sense rather than as a sensational organ or sense. We dO' 
not directly distinguish between the sensation and the thing " per- 
ceived." In fact we are apparently not aware immediately of the 
sensation as defined, but only of the so-called object of " perception." 
In touch, whether we are any differently qualified to pronounce upon 
the situation or not, we generally at least, try to distinguish between 
the sensation and the object or stimulus causing it. It may be with 
the help of vision and visual " experiences" in the past that we are 
able to so represent the matter to the mind, but whatever the orio-in 



SS THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of the habit it is certainly one that is very common, namely, to localize 
the tactual sensation on the organism and the cause or stimulus as 
external to this, so that from the standpoint of touch we have a con- 
ception of the distinction between sensation and its cause which we 
apparently do not have in vision. In fact we might say of vision that 
w^e never are aware of the sensation at all, but only of the object or 
stimulus, at least as common sense usually conceives the case. The 
tendency to test one of the senses by the other, the reliance we have 
on vision for all anticipations of tactual " experience," and the 
assumed " objectivity" of causes to effects, lead to such an association 
of touch and vision that in our commonly accepted conception of the 
matter the tactual object is a visual percept and the sensation an affec- 
tion of the sensorium while in vision the object is a visual percept and 
no " feeling " of a localized sort appears in consciousness, at least in 
any way analogous to tactual sensation or suggesting that idea of sen- 
sation. But when we are reduced to each individual sense for the 
determination of the object we find that, in touch, we either cannot 
distinguish between the sensation, affection of the sensorium, and the 
object, or we have to deny the resemblance between sensation and object, 
making the latter " unknowable " in terms of the former. In hearing 
there is no definite localization of the sensation and only an associative 
or inferential conception of the object, interpreting " conception " in the 
representative sense of resemblance in kind. In vision we have seen 
that there is no distinction between sensation and object, but only be- 
cause there is no " sensation " in the sense which that term bears in 
touch. The other senses exhibit in various degrees the same phe- 
nomenon. The consequence is that when we come to examine the 
common quality which shall define the term " sensation" in all sen- 
sory " experience " we find that the only conferential or common fact 
is a relation to stimulus, and this is not a quality of the settsation at 
all. This relation indicates the object having a constant reference to 
the sensation and this constant reference may be used as evidence of the 
fact about which we wish to reflect when discussing sensory " experi- 
ence." That is to say, nothing will make clear or intelligible Avhat we 
mean by the sensation but an illustration or a personal " experience," 
since vs^e cannot mention the associated synthetic characteristic of it 
which will identify it, but only the associated synthetic cause which is 
no part of its constitution. The conception of sensation is thus the most 
abstract possible, the so-called common quality being nothing but a 
common relation to stimulus. But two facts still more highly refine 
this abstraction. Firstly, the stimuli do not appear to be, and certainly 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 89 

are not conceived to be, the same in kind. Secondly, when the " phe- 
nomena " of sensational "experience" are carefully examined we 
analyze or reduce the localization into a reference to the sensorium 
which we do not localize at all, but leave it indeterminate between the 
periphery and the center of the neural system. The consequence is 
that, when we have eliminated the adjuncts of sensation which are no 
constitutional qualities of it we have left nothing in conception but a 
" subjective " phenomenon. The assumed " representative " character 
of the sensation is lost, and if once the principle of causality is dis- 
puted the necessity of supposing an external object is eradicated. 

This situation is the paradise of scepticism. It has only to take 
the definition of sensation advanced by " common sense " to show that 
the external object assumed by that point of view is not contained in 
the thing defined, and when it appeals to the phenomena of illusion in 
sense perception it easily discredits the convictions or " knowledge " 
associated with and assumed to transcend sensation. What we seemed 
so certain of before this critical investigation dissolves into the nature 
of an hypothesis of inference, by supposition, and an hypothesis or in- 
ference is alvs^ays assumed to have some measure of uncertainty about 
it, a likelihood of being false. Whether this be the correct conception 
of the case I do not at present need to inquire, as I am concerned only 
with the fact that this interpretation of the situation has existed as a 
fact, and it w^as made as the logical consequence, presumptively, of 
the definition of the " natural realist." It is this peculiarly confusing 
condition of things which gives rise to the epistemological problem 
regarding the existence of external reality. At first and before any 
special analysis of the primary data of " know^ledge " had been made 
the existence of an external "reality" was taken as an immediate 
datum of the same state of consciousness as the sensation, but the 
gradual generalization of the meaning of " sensation" and the exclu- 
sion of the object from its true content left the inquirer without the 
right to deduce his object from the defined nature of his sensation, and 
scepticism won the victory. 

But the situation created a tendency and scepticism made an admis- 
sion which requires some notice. The analysis at least seems to show 
the elimination of the object from direct " knowledge." The sceptic 
admitted the "knowledge" of sensations, and by this "knowledge" 
he meant the certainty of this fact at least. But to both classes of 
thinkers, the sceptic and the " natural realist," there was necessarily 
a peculiar incident about this " knowledge." There was some sort 
of identity between the act and its object, the mental state and the 



/- 



9© THE PROBLEMS OF I'lIILOSOPHV. 

thing " known." Before sceptical analysis had been applied there 
was a difference assumed between them. The object or cause of the 
sensation presumptively existed " outside " the sensation, that is, out- 
side the organism or sensorium. Externality to the sensation, " aus- 
einander," was the conception used to interpret the meaning of the fact 
of " experience." But this antithesis could no longer be assumed 
when the object was eliminated from the datum immediately " known " 
and in its stead there came the assumption that the "knowing" and 
the " known" were the same thing, at least in respect of time, and 
also of space if that could enter into the conception of the matter, and 
it does enter into it when the conscious localization of the sensation in 
the periphery is admitted into the account. 

It is out of this situation that the various theories of perception 
have originated. The ineradicable believer in. a " real " world other 
than sensations and external to the subject resorts to " perception," 
" apprehension," " intuition," " instinct,"orother functions to give what 
he is forced to admit is not given in sensation. Now it is not my pur- 
pose at this stage of the discussion to examine the nature or the validity 
of such suppositions but only to indicate that they are inventions to 
supplement the supposed defects or imperfect capacities of sensation, 
and that the device gives rise to the general supposition of " higher" 
functions for the assertion of "knowledge" than sense deliverances. 
The examination of them will be made further on in this work. At 
present I am engaged in ascertaining what conception must be taken 
of sensation as a preliminary process or datum of " knowledge," and 
having seen that the anti-sceptic tends to supplement the nature of 
sensation by other functions for the purpose, I merely wish to remark 
that he tends to change the very conception of " knowledge " to the 
same extent by including in it, not only the object which has to be ex- 
cluded from the content of sensation, whether he regards it as repre- 
sentative or non-representative, but also a non-sensor}' activity. But 
the sceptic still has a consideration of some importance in the solution 
of the problem. Though he admits or seems to admit the definition 
of the realist, he does so either for ad hoininein purposes or for the 
purpose of insisting that the discovery of such an object or cause of 
sensation is a later adjunct of consciousness and not an original datum 
of that which is so defined. This is to say, that the definition repre- 
sents the conception of the adult mind and lays too much emphasis 
upon the relation to stimulus as the criterion of what the sensation is 
or when it occurs distinct from other mental states. Now just in pro- 
portion as the sceptic discredits these adjunctive functions as deliverers 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 91 

of " knowledge" or certainty as to the fact and nature of its object, 
just in the same proportion does he limit "knowledge" to sensation 
and indicates that the problem is to legitimate the assertion of external 
objects and not to assume that legitimacy and invent non-sensory proc- 
esses or terms to explain the " knowledge " of them. He tends or 
appears to confine certain and valid " knowledge " to sensation and 
mentation, making the former quite as subjective as the latter. 
" Knowing" and "being," or " knowing" and having mental states 
appear to be the same in this conception of the terms and to be subject 
to the limitations of what is meant by the term subjective. That is, 
the sceptic applies the predicate of incertitude and of liability to illu- 
sion to the objective, or even questions its validity altogether. 

I shall not at present undertake the criticism of this position, as I 
am rather interested in stating what the problem is. But there are a 
few things in the way of qvialification that are necessary to remark in 
order to understand the limitations of the sceptic's doctrine and its 
relation to the theory which it is supposed to dispute. In the first 
place, the sceptic must accept some other function than sensation as a 
condition of interpreting even in an ad hominejn way the definition of 
the " natural realist." He must trust the certitude of the process by 
which he concludes from the accepted definition of sensation that its 
limitations are what he assumes. If not, he cannot impeach the 
" knowledge " of external objects. His very scepticism is based for 
its value and cogency upon the trustworthiness of intellectual functions 
other than sensation when he interprets the limitations of sensation 
according to the definition, to say nothing of his theory to account for 
ideas by association whose existence he admits but whose validity he 
wishes to impair. He can effect his object only by accepting the 
validity of reasoning and the logical processes generally. This is 
accepting a conception of " knowledge" as certitude which is distinct 
from sensation. In the second place, the sceptic has to assume that 
the act of " knowing" the sensation itself is not the same as the sen- 
sation. It may be numerically identical {numero eadejti)., that is, it 
occurs in connection with it and is so associated with it as to be insep- 
arable from it in time, but it is not qualitatively identical {arte eadeni) 
with it, but functionally different in kind. The functional discrim- 
ination between sensation and other mental states that are not sensation 
is an act which cannot be identified with the sensation, so that even if 
we are supposed to have the limits of " knowledge " determined by 
the limits of sensation excluding the presentation of external objects, 
the act of "knowing" is different in kind from the sensory reaction 



92 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

against stimulus and is not to be confused with it, though it is a simul- 
taneous act. Hence "knowing" and "being" are not the same 
functional facts though they coincide temporally, and the sceptic has 
to accept a process of consciousness for " knowledge " which he cannot 
limit to sensation even when he excludes external objects from the 
content of sensory " experience" and the assumed certitude belonging 
to this " experience." This consciousness is an apprehensive act 
which is far more fundamental to " knowledge " than the sensation, 
even though it depends for its occurrence upon the same conditions 
which give rise to sensation. In both the ratiocinative and apprehensive 
processes which the sceptic thus admits he coincides with the " natural 
realist " in the assumption of functions that are not convertible with the 
sensory in nature when he conceives " knowledge" both as certitude 
and as a function. 

This position assumes that sensation is a term of deeper abstract 
import than appears on the surface. It is not only abstract as being 
the generic term for phenomena that have no common characteristic, 
but only a common relation to assumed stimuli of an external kind ; but 
it is also abstract in the further sense that it does not express the whole 
process which takes place at the moment, but only a part of it, the 
complement being the apprehensive act which represents the really 
*' knowing" part of the whole. 

Further discussion of this question will be taken up when the theory 
of external " reality " is considered. All that I am at present concerned 
to remark is the fact that the sceptic virtually admits that there are 
other mental states implicated in the act of " knowledge." The 
validity of such processes will come under consideration again. The 
point at present is to determine the limits of the meaning of sensation 
as a term denoting a datum in the theory of " knowledge." This limit 
is expressed in the fact that it is not only a subjective event, not 
including a representative idea of the " reality" supposed to occasion 
it, but also a " feeling " or state that is not conceived as a discriminating 
consciousness but as a reaction of some kind, however closely related 
it may be in fact and conception to the apprehensive act which is aware 
of it or temporally identified with it. That conclusion regarding it 
enables us to recognize that we have not determined all problems by 
merely concentrating attention upon an event assumed to be simple and 
a chronological prius of other acts, but which is simple only by 
abstraction and a prius onlv of certain complex processes still to be 
considered. The trouble has been that various thinkers of both the 
sceptical and dogmatic schools have treated the question as if it were a 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 93 

problem of " origin," of chronological genesis, and implied thereby 
that the chronological prius was the best known and that the latter 
was dubious or less certain. That is to say they assumed or admitted 
that the acts superimposed temporally upon sensation, whether as 
inferences or " perceptions," were less certain and more exposed to 
invalidity than the first " experience." The problem of certitude and 
validity was made convertible with historical genesis, an assumption 
which present psychology will not admit for a moment. 

General psychophysical considerations in regard to the simplicity 
or complexity of "sensation" I do not consider as important. I am 
here concerned with the meaning and content of the phenomenon for 
the problem of " knowledge" as related to objects other than the sen- 
sation and not with the question of its sensory nature, simplicity or 
complexity, a matter affecting only its elements and variations of content 
as a " phenomenon," and not its general relation to cognition, even 
though these facts have a bearing upon what we know in metaphys- 
ical problems. The primary and fundamental problem is to determine 
the meaning and limits of all sensations, simple or complex, their 
relation to the general problem of "knowledge" concerned with 
" reality." This meaning and limit I conceive to be its nature as a 
primary event in the analysis of that whole which is usually com- 
prehended in the term " knowledge " as a larger totality than mere 
sensation. 

We may concede to the sceptic the right to demand that it is the 
validity of " perception" that is in debate when considering the ques- 
tion of an external " reality " and that this cannot be assumed to be 
representatively given in the sensation, whatever we may say or think 
about its certitude as indirectly ascertained or believed. Various facts 
point to the rationality of the supposition that the conception of external 
" reality " is an adjunct to the sensation which cannot be clearly defined 
without mentioning its relation to such a fact, and, if the sceptic be ad- 
mitted right in the matter, is an adventitious adjunct with less certainty 
attached to our convictions regarding it than to our mental states 
including sensation. 

Mentation. 

I shall employ the term " mentation " to denote those mental states 
which are not sensations, but which may be objects of apprehension 
or self-consciousness nevertheless, I refer to such acts as are named 
"perception," imagination, reasoning, association, etc., conceived 
merely as events happening, and not as functionally involved in inter- 
pretation. The phenomena that I have in mind can all be compre- 



94 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

hcnded in the one term self-consciousness and are simply what we are 
aware of as going on when we turn consciousness upon itself. Locke 
used the term reflection for these " simple ideas." They do not 
require any elaborate definition and analysis or criticism, as in the case 
of sensation, because there is no such issue as that involved in the 
nature and meaning of sensation. They are never defined with refer- 
ence to an object external to them. All parties agree that they are 
purely subjective acts and may not indicate any relation to an external 
cause at all. They are admittedly "known" immediately or intui- 
tively and are in no way amenable to the functions of inference or 
functions like it in the determination of the facts. They are univers- 
ally accorded the nature of " knowledge," at least in respect of certi- 
tude. They do not exhibit that variety of form which characterizes 
the various sensations. The concrete instances of them may be far 
more numerous, but I refer to their form. There are at least six dis- 
tinct senses, including the thermal of recent discovery, and the unequal 
relation of these senses to " reality " and the influence of association 
on the conceptions which we form of their individual and collective 
functions in the complex of "knowledge," makes sensation a compli- 
cated "phenomenon" in its meaning and relations. But the internal 
states, in spite of their innumerable concrete instances, are all of one 
kind, simple acts of introspection into the states of the subject whether 
they be sensations or other facts of consciousness. There is no ques- 
tion of their non-complication with problems of the external M'orld, at 
least directly. There are incidents that separate them indubitably from 
that kind of connection with external " reality " which would raise the 
query regarding it as in sensation. They are such as the influence of 
attention and association upon the events that are so introspected. The 
stream of purely mental states in imagination, in subjective reflection, 
in dreams, in recalling the past is so affected by the subject's own 
power over its course, either directly or indirectly, that we do not sus- 
pect, and cannot be made to believe, that it is produced in precisely 
the same way that sensations are produced. There is a constancy of 
causal nexus between given sensations and their stimulus, along with 
the independence of sensation from the arbitrary control of the sub- 
ject's will, at least directly, and also a quale in the consciousness itself, 
that quite distinguish the internal "experience" very clearly from 
the externally produced " phenomenon," while the unity of the internal 
states is so conspicuovis that there seems to be but one definite type of 
event wdiich is easily defined as the consciovisness of the subject's OAvn 
states both internally and externally occasioned and also as distinct 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 95 

from each other in this respect. In so far as they are intuited as 
events to be referred to something as their ground or cause they are 
precisely Hke sensations. They are " phenomena," even if they are 
also acts of "knowing" to be described as cognitive judgments and 
reasoning. In so far as they are conceived as mere facts of observa- 
tion they are data for " knowledge " of a more complex kind and are 
not that " knowledge " itself. This is the conception which I wish at 
present to take of them. What their meaning is, what the interpreta- 
tion and explanation may be it is not necessary even to suggest at this 
stage of our inquiries, but only the fact that they have to be distin- 
guished from sensations in very important characteristics which sug- 
gest that we must either admit a very great elasticity in the term 
" knowledge," as compared with the tendency of the sensationalist to 
limit it, or find some other term with equal implication as to certitude 
and compass and involving processes quite as valid transparently as 
sensation. 

It is this last circumstance which it is most important to notice. 
The admission of self-knowledge, of introspective states other than 
sensation and other than of sensation is the admission of functions in- 
volving " knowledge." The sensationalist, from the important place 
occupied by sensation in the early stages of mental development, tends 
to identify "knowledge" with sensation, if he is a sceptic, because 
he does not stop to reflect what it is even in sensation that can properly 
be called " knowledge," namely, the consciousness part of it as an 
active function of apprehension rather than that aspect of it considered 
as a reflex of stimulus. It is the sensation as a content, as an object, 
an ultimate fact of " experience," that he has in mind, and so is think- 
ing of the datum rather than the process., of the things "known" 
rather than the act " knowing." But in dealing with the purely sub^ 
jective states of reflection not necessarily instigated by external stimuli, 
he has only the function of consciousness to think of and in this situa- 
tion it is inevitable that " knowledge " should partake of a meaning 
quite different from sensation as an effect. It suggests the existence 
of other, perhaps higher, functions than those implicated in sensation 
alone and exclusive of the intuitive act of apprehending a fact as a fact 
of consciousness. The admission of such functions opens the door 
wide to the extension of the conception of " knowledge," both as re- 
gards its assurance and its content, beyond the limits assigned to it by 
the exclusion of an external world from the content of sensation. We 
may adopt the language indicating the limitation of " knowledge " to 
" phenomena," but when we have admitted other mental functions than 



9t> THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sensation in the action of consciousness, unless we can give the same 
kind of evidence for its subjective limitations that we have in the case 
of sensation, there is nothing to prevent the belief that they have the 
capacity to supply what sensation does not supply, and this has 
actually been the course taken by philosophers. A conviction so 
ineradicable as the existence of an external " reality " has to be ex- 
plained, whether it be illusory or not, and if it happen to be firm and 
tenacious as the confidence in our own mental states, its validity is 
likely to be accepted as a foregone conclusion and consciousness an- 
alyzed in a way to present the process qualified to justify the convic- 
tion, when sensation is shown or supposed to be disqualified for it. 
The existence of other functions of " knowledge " than sensation is at 
least presumptive evidence that such capacities exist. There is no 
reason for limiting the capacity of consciousness to " know " except 
the assumptions which have arisen from the illusions associated with 
the synthesis of sensory data, but as similar perplexities do not betray 
themselves in normal internal states there is nothing against supposing 
that it is the very nature of consciousness as intuitive, apprehensive, or 
cognitive to "know" more than itself, that is, to have a meaning 
extending to the assertion of a " reality" beyond the area of its own 
" phenomenal" nature. Whether this supposition is justifiable is not 
here the question, but only the strength of mental temptation and the 
pardonable mental interest in a belief so cohesive and firm as that in 
the existence of external " reality." If there were no mental states but 
the sensory whose limitations seem to be so thoroughly demonstrated, 
scepticism would have had everything its own way, but a difficulty 
like the denial of an external world is only the motive for the analysis 
of consciousness in a way to admit the validity of its judgments both as 
regards the existence of illusion and the conviction that sensation can 
be transcended in some way. Any other alternative means for most 
minds the distrust of all convictions whatsoever. Hence if the oppor- 
tunity offers in the admitted existence of active powers of conscious- 
ness to suppose that it is these which are instrumental in the " per- 
ception " of external "reality" and not the sensation scepticism can 
vindicate its own distrust only by proving the same limitations in these 
powers that it assumes in sensation. It may be able to do this. I am 
not at present interested in disputing the fact, but only in calling 
attention to a circumstance which suggests that " knowledge " may be 
either more originally complex than is usually assumed or its later 
complexitv is not an evolution out of the simple but a synthesis of 
functions whose individual elements do not develop in parallel lines. 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 97 

However this may be, it is clear that the admission of mental states 
other than sensation into the domain of " knowledge" so widens the 
import of that term that no apriori presumptions against trans-sub- 
jective processes can be proved by the limitations of sense. 

Memory. 

Memory is a somewhat uncertain term. It does duty for the process 
of recognizing a past event and also for all those real or supposed facts 
which succeed the original impression and precede its recognition, 
and these facts are usually called Retention and Reproduction or As- 
sociation. As both of these facts, retention and reproduction, repre- 
sent subconscious conditions they have no place in the primary data 
of "knowledge." What I wish to deal with here is memory as a 
mental state involving the consciousness of the past, a process or phe- 
nomenon quite different in some respects from sensation and other 
forms of mentation. This difference may be nothing more than the 
element of past time while in the other instances it is present time 
only, but it is an important difference even if it is nothing more than 
the admission of the element of past instead of present time. But 
what I wish to note in the conception of memory is its immediacy, its 
directness and freedom from ratiocinative character. Its simplicity as 
an act maybe subject to doubt, if we take the mnemonic consciousness 
in its adult form, where the act is often very closely associated with 
the exercise of other functions, v^^hich are to be considered later. But 
it is not the complex state of comparison with the past that I am now 
considering, but the simple act of recognizing the past, even though it 
be an abstraction to conceive it so. This recognition is an irreducible 
act and in that respect is an ultimate fact of consciousness and it is this 
characteristic which I am defining and which I wish to treat as a funda- 
mental element in the more complex functions of " knowledge." 

In the looser application of the term, Memory is complex, since it 
is taken to comprehend all the processes and conditions connected with 
it. They are Retention, Redintegration, Representation or Imagina- 
tion and Recognition, but the only element of any importance to the 
epistemological problem is the recognitive function which supplies 
that factor in " knowledge " involving the past as a datum. We have 
in this recognition, or consciousness that an element in the present 
state is a reproduction of the past, a " phenomenon" that is as ultimate 
as sensation and any other elementary fact of mentation. It is not re- 
solvable into a complex of simpler and non-recognitive acts. It is the 
primary condition of all " knowledge " which affects to determine the 

7 



98 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

unity of phenomena in time. I am not concerned with the problem 
of the validity of recognition, as that must be a subject of considera- 
tion in dealing with the general question respecting the criterion of 
truth. I have in mind here only the mnemonic function as datum 
in the exercise of other activities in the production of complex 
■" knowledge." 

Apprehension'. 

As I have hesitated regarding the consideration of sensation, men- 
tation and recognition under the head of Apprehension, owing to the 
possible misunderstanding of their nature and relation to the questions 
involved I must examine the subject of Apprehension very fully and 
perhaps in a way that will suggest an actual revision of what has been 
said about the previous processes or functions. This warning to the 
reader is necessary because of two facts. Firstly, the prevailing habit 
of psychologists and philosophers outside the movement started by 
Kant, has been to define and discuss sensation and mentation or " in- 
ternal sense " as chronologically prior to and conditional of apprehen- 
sion. That is to say, they have at least permitted the impression to 
arise that apprehension was a distinct function of mind which might 
be later in its manifestation, if not its origin, than sensation as well as 
representing a function capable of having an object of " perception" 
which the others did not have. Secondly, the manner of treatment 
which I have given them rather suggests the same conception, as I 
purposely put myself in the attitude of this school to study the phe- 
nomena so considered in as much isolation as was possible, just as if 
these functions could be conceived as distinct in time and meaning. 
In saying this, however, I do not intend to imply that I adopt the other 
position at present, because I am not going to define the issues in any 
way to beg questions between the two schools. I wish only to reser\-e 
my judgment in the discussion so as to study the facts as independently 
as possible of the technical controversies that have gone on between 
the two schools. I shall therefore proceed to define and illustrate the 
function of Apprehension as I intend to use the term, as if it were a 
distinct function from those already considered, which it may or may 
not be so far as I am at present concerned. 

I think different schools have given Apprehension different ranges 
of capacity, some including in it the " perception " of external " reality," 
others limiting it to the consciousness of " phenomena," according to 
their philosophic view generally. This circumstance makes it difficult 
to present a definition without becoming complicated in suggestions 
and associations predetermined by the controversies and conceptions 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 99 

of these various schools, I intend, however, to avoid identification 
with either of the two generally opposing disputants in any definition 
that I adopt, even if it be embodied in the language of one or the 
other. 

It is probable that the mental interest which tried to escape from 
certain doctrines of scepticism has given rise to the various ways of re- 
garding apprehension. On the one hand it was not possible to escape 
the admission of error in various complex mental acts like judgment and 
reasoning, and on the other, the limitations of sensation, could not be 
disputed. Hence the real or apparent necessity for distinguishing a 
function for obtaining the actual certitude which we have in many of 
our conceptions and which we are not disposed to surrender. This 
situation has seemed to make it convenient to apply some term like In- 
tuition or Apprehension to a process lying between sensation and the 
various complex processes usually denominated as judgment, apper- 
ception and reasoning and which would be devoid of the objections to 
all of them, as sources of certainty. Something was wanted for the 
expression of directness or immediacy and certainty at the same time 
and it was assumed that apprehension or intuition supplied this want 
simply by giving it that definition. The difficulties, therefore, which 
I have to approach in the definition of the term arise out of the danger 
of being involved in conceptions and associations which I wish to ex- 
clude from the term, and which maybe comprehended in the following 
three facts : (a) the difference of opinion in regard to the nature and 
range of the function so denominated ; (3) the equivocal import of 
the term in both common and psychological usage ; (c) the element- 
ary and fundamental character of the act as often or usually conceived. 
To define it in one way w^ould be to beg the question of philosophy 
with one school, and to define it in another way would be to beg the 
question with the opposite school. Thus to make it the act by which 
we immediately know an external " reality" as such might offend the 
sceptic or transcendental idealist who may not care to admit the direct 
" knowledge " of an external world. To define it as a combining 
process merely would offend the realist and conflict with the nature of 
the various synthetic ideational processes involved in the higher intel- 
lectual acts. Again if it be a simple and ultimate act of mind, im- 
mediate and irreducible, some will tell us it is not definable at all, but 
that it is like any absolute which is not subject to analysis and defini- 
tion of the ordinary kind. But in spite of these real or supposed diffi- 
culties and variations of view there is one common characteristic by 
which every conception of the term may be denoted, and which does 

LofC. 



lOO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

not require us to take sides with any special school of philosophy re- 
garding any supposed implications. This meaning of the term will 
comprehend the elementary characteristics of every mental act in 
which a fact of any kind gets recognition or a place in consciousness. 

Apprehension, therefore, as I shall define it and as I shall use the 
term, is that act of the stibject by which it becojnes aivare of a fact as 
distinct from its occurrence and our interpretation of it as an occur- 
rence. This definition of it clearly distinguishes the act from reflex ac- 
tions which take place in the same organism but are not conscious or 
accompanied by consciousness, and also from that conception of sen- 
sations which describes them as passive responses to stimulus. Appre- 
hension is supposed to be a positing act., sensation a condition. But 
whether we can distinguish the two or not from each other Appre- 
hension is here defined as the consciousness of a fact rather than the 
mere occurrence of it. Where it becomes intuition of one's own 
states it gets the name of self-consciousness. It is the act of " per- 
ceiving" in connection with any state of consciousness recognized as 
a fact or " expei^ience." 

Let me illustrate. The consciousness of a color, of a sound, of a 
taste, of a tactual feeling, of an act of memory, of an act of attention 
is an apprehension. I do not say that the consciousness of a tree, of 
a horse, of a mountain, etc., is an apprehension, as such examples will 
come up again under another process. I confine my conception of 
the intuitive act to the simplest possible object of consciousness. I 
may name it an individual simple qualit}-, as given in sensation or 
mentation. I would distinguish apprehension, as I define it, from the 
mental act " perceiving" that any oi these simple qualities were such. 
Hence I mean to call attention to the circumstance that we may and 
perhaps must distinguish between the consciousness of a color, sounds 
etc., and the consciousness that these " percepts '' are color or sound. 
The consciousness that a color is a color either involves the discrimi- 
nation of this object from others, or is so closely allied to the concep- 
tion of such discrimination, that I must at least allow for that possible 
interpretation of it and make clear that I mean to exclude from the 
apprehensive act all discrimination from it and assimilation of other 
objects to it. If there is no distinction between the consciousness of 2l 
color and the consciousness that the color is such, then I am willing to 
identify the two forms of statement, but only on that condition. What 
I want clear is the distinction between the mere consciousness of a 
fact and the consciousness that this fact is discriminated from or com- 
pared with another, and to limit the proper meaning of apprehension 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. lOC 

to the former act. I exclude from its objects all such complex wholes 
as'Hree" "horse," "man," "world," "government," "religion," 
etc., though the " co7tcept " of any of them as a represented image, or as 
some conceived quality representnig them, may be an object of appre- 
hension and so indicate such an act. But the full meaning of the 
" concept" as a name for a group of qualities and relations will not 
properly be an object of appreheiasion, unless simultaneously repre- 
sented in consciousness, which may be impossible. However, i^efine- 
ments aside, the clear conception of the limits of the process is found 
in the simplest possible object of the act and this will be the simple 
qualities of sensation and mentation. 

Before we go any farther in this matter it will be important to ex- 
amine the relation of this process as defined to sensation. I have in- 
dicated that any particular sensation in the consciousness of the fact is 
an apprehension, and it is necessary to ask how I would distinguish 
between sensation and apprehension. Is there any difference at all? 
Are we not simply using different words for the same thing ? 

In reply to these questions it must be said that we have at least to 
illustrate the two terms by precisely the same facts. Sensation is a 
name for the same temporal state of consciousness as an apprehension, 
when illustrated by the " phenomena " which we call sensations. Now 
as this latter term has come to exclude the external stimulus from its 
meaning, that is, as we cannot consider that the stimulus is any part of 
the thing denoted by sensation or included in it as a " phenomenon," 
we have to conceive it as a state of consciousness, as in the definition. 
As a state of consciousness therefore sensation cannot be distinguished 
from apprehension, since consciousness is itself a name for awareness. 
If the terms, sensation and apprehension, have any differences of im- 
port they seem to be slight and to be found in their associated impli- 
cations rather than in the facts or phenomena which are their essential 
meaning. No doubt some associated implication of an external world 
is connected with the term sensation, its relation to the external, its 
conception as an effect of stimulus, but these are no part of the " phe- 
nomenon " conceived as a state of consciousness alone. Whether it is 
possible to conceive sensations as unrelated to an external object is an- 
other question. But we certainly do not suppose or conceive them as 
either representative of such objects or as constituted by them, but as 
constituted by the state of consciousness which is so named for the pur- 
pose of distinguishing it from states which have no such apparent 
cause. Within the limits of sensations therefore apprehension denotes 
the same facts and if it has any difference of import at all it lies in its 



I02 THE PROBLEMS OF I'lULOSOPHV. 

direct implication of reference to an object, not necessarily external, 
but simply an object of consciousness if only the mental state itself. 
That is, it expresses awareness, ''perception," the immediate con- 
sciousness of the fact which the term sensation names, and when we 
come to examine carefully what we mean by sensation as a certain type 
of consciousness we find our conception so implicated with this aware- 
ness that, but for certain historical associations in philosophical theories 
we could not distinguish between sensation and sensory apprehension 
in any respect. At the same time there is a difference between the two 
terms, but it is not a difference of qualitative import. It is a difference 
of range or extension. Apprehension comprehends the " perceptive " 
consciousness applied to other states besides sensation. All the acts 
of mind or subject directly aware of themselves are apprehensions. 
That is, all our mental states may become objects of the particular 
process which we call apprehension or intuition as facts of "experi- 
ence." Hence the term has specific reference to the simple act of 
" knowing " without regard to content " known," the act which directly 
in presentation is aware of a particular fact or facts as " experience " 
at least. The range of this goes beyond sensations and takes in any 
state of mentation whatever, so that apprehension differs from sensa- 
tion only in the range of its application. It is the common factor of 
sensation and mentation, and the one that gives sensation its meaning 
as a state of consciousness. 

The consequence is that I shall make no such distinction between 
sensation and apprehension as is customary with those w'ho regard 
them as distinct functions of mind. Neither shall I definitely iden- 
tify them as functions. I do not consider that the problem of '• knowl- 
edge" requires either their distinction or their identification as func- 
tions, assuming as some do that they may occur independently of each 
other. Even supposing them different functions they are so articu- 
lated that, so far as the problem of " knowledge " is concerned, thev 
may be treated as the same fact in the field of sensation. In that field 
they are certainly the same numerically and thus indistinguishable, 
whatever else we may suppose them to be. We often find sensation so 
described and defined that it appears as something antecedent to appre- 
hension and consciousness, and wherever this meaning prevails there 
is the tendency, when forced to explain, to conceive the fact as identi- 
cal with the neural action wdiich is neither constituted by the con- 
sciousness we know nor accompanied by it, as reaction time indicates. 
But the moment that we are interrogated we adopt the conception that 
sensation is a state of consciousness and we arrive at the position which 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 103 

compels us to identify the fact of sensation with apprehension in time 
at least, if not as a function. The only reason for ever implying a 
difference between the terms is in the fact that we generally conceive 
sensation as an object of apprehension without ever conceiving sensa- 
tion as having an object, while w^e always speak and think of objects 
as different from the acts of consciousness which refer to them. That 
is, act and object of reference are supposed to be different from each 
other, while sensation is only a state conceived without special refer- 
ence to an object, even though vs^e conceive it in reference to a subject 
as its ground. But I think that this subject in consciousness is an ob- 
ject of reference, so that again the sensation becomes identical with an 
apprehension. Consequently I shall not treat them so far as episte- 
mology is interested, as qualitatively different but only in range of ap- 
plication, the essential characteristic of apprehension being the same as 
that which makes even sensation interesting and important in " knowl- 
edge " and only its application to states not uniformly associated with 
external " reality "affects its range of meaning, not its nature. It will 
be seen, therefore, why I have spoken of sensory, mental, and mne- 
monic apprehension in the analysis of the problem. 

What has been wanted in the discussion of the problems of epis- 
temology is a term to distinguish a certain process from other proc- 
esses having a more complex content or implications, and one that 
could be synonymous with a degree of firmness in conviction that is 
not always associated w^ith ceitain other mental acts. Apprehension 
has consequently denoted a process to be clearly distinguished from 
all the synthetic processes of intelligence such as perception, conper- 
ception, apperception and ratiocination. How it is so distinguished 
will appear when these are discussed. But I may make its meaning 
clear by distinguishing it from association and inference, assuming 
that these are sufficiently clear at present not to require definition, 
except that I must refer to that ambiguity of the term "association" 
which makes it now equivalent to conscious synthesis, or simultaneous 
holding of more than a single object of consciousness, and now to mere 
reproduction of the past which is unconscious and not synthetic at all, 
so far as present objects in consciousness are concerned. The first of 
these meanings is a form of apperception as I shall define it. The 
second is simply the act, all unconscious, which calls vip a past fact 
some way or other related to the one present in consciousness. Thus 
to illustrate both reproduction and inference, I have a present sensation 
of yellow color of a certain specific character. Association or repro- 
duction simply calls up in consciousness the past "experience" or 



I04 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sensation appropriately related to the present one. It does not com- 
pare them and it does not interpret them. The past "experience" 
may have been connected with an orange. The recall of this past ;.nd 
its relation to a subject is not the necessary interpretation of the pres- 
ent sensation. But if we i7ifer that the present sensation is caused 
by the same object, or by the same kind of object, as the past, we are 
performing an act quite distinct from the association or reproduction, 
even though this latter is an essential condition of the occurrence of 
the inference. We may also itifer the possibility of other sensations 
connected with the same object and in that way anticipate "experi- 
ence " or sensation, say of taste or resistance. The apprehension is of 
the present quality "experienced." It is a presentation or the act 
aware of the presentation, while the inference is only 'of its possibility 
or probability under the appropriate conditions. 

This comparison of apprehension ^vith reproduction and inference 
indicates two things which are not united in either of the two latter. 
It indicates that we mean to denominate by apprehension a present act 
of consciousness in which the object is also present, while reproduction 
has no object present until after it has acted, when the state becomes 
some other act of "knowledge" and inference has no present object 
for its referee but only for its datum or pobit de repere. Apprehen- 
sion has an object for both its referee and its datum. It is therefore a 
name for a present rather than an expected or past event in con- 
sciousness. 

This object of apprehension must be noticed. It is the direct and 
immediate fact of which consciousness takes cognizance or is aware as 
present. I may represent it as of three general kinds. This is to say 
that there are three general classes of objects of which apprehension 
may be cognizant. There are («;) space, ((5) time, and ((:) events. 
Space is that characteristic wdiich we notice especially in visual sensa- 
tions as a concomitant or indistinguishable quality in connection with 
color, the expansion, extension or reciprocal exclusion (auseinander) 
of the points constituting the expanded mass of color. A similar sense 
of expansion or extension is noticeable in tactual and muscular experi- 
ences. But in making this an object of apprehension I do not mean 
to imply that the process is aware of it necessarily as space or a distinct 
quality from the sensory datum as a whole with which it is found, but 
that it is simply aware of a fact that may on further analysis and 
investigation . deserve the name of space as distinguishable from 
other incidents of " experience." It is simply a quale in the totality 
called visual sensation in all ordinary "perception." We may call 



PRIMARY PROCESSES. 105 

this object the " form of external intuition " after the manner of Kant 
if we like, but I prefer to avoid that expression, partly because it is lot 
self-interpreting, and partl}^ because I do not wish to identify the con- 
ception of it taken here with Kantian philosojohical implications based 
upon the view represented by that expression, even though they happen 
to be correct in fact, which is a disputed point. But it is at least the 
characteristic of all sensations with which it is associated at all and 
involves no variation of kind as in the color, or tactual element of the 
sensations. These vary in kind or degree in a way not associated with 
the space element, and so we get a common conception of the space 
quale which enables us to speak of it as generic and more essential, as 
it were, to such "experience." Whether it is subjective or has a 
meaning for an external " reality" of the thing thus apprehended I do 
not care. That is a question for later consideration. All that I require 
of it as an object of apprehension is that it shall be an immediate 
" percept " of the subject along with what is called sensation, whatever 
its nature or meaning. Time is a similar quale in both sensation and 
mentation. In Kantian phrase, it is the form of both internal and 
external "experience." It is expressed by duration, succession (nach- 
elnander) . As an object of apprehension it is like all other objects of 
it, an ultimate datum of consciousness. By " events " as objects of 
apprehension I mean what generally passes for phenomena. I avoid 
this term, however, because I do not wish to complicate present matters 
with the equivocations of the term " phenomenon," which now denotes 
"appearances" and again "changes" which may not be "appear- 
ances " at all, except in the Platonic sense. Moreover also I do not 
wish to express the idea of " things " as substances, as external " real- 
ities," but only " facts of experience," however we may come to con- 
sider them later. I mean to apply the term to both external and internal 
" events," facts which represent the occurrences supposed to be in an 
external world and those supposed to represent an internal world. I do 
not mean to imply that apprehension necessarily distinguishes between an 
internal and external " reality," but only that the facts or events which 
may be its objects directly are those which we come to distinguish in 
that way, if not at first, certainly when " knowledge " has advanced to 
a complex stage. Nor would I say that apprehension even distinguishes 
them as events. This may require a comparison with something not 
an event. All that I mean is that there are facts of consciousness 
whose nature comes to be " known " as events at least and that they 
seem to be the primary data for the reflective functions of intelligence. 
These are to be considered the " given" data for systematic ideation. 



Io6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The purpose of supposing or asserting such a process as apprehen- 
sion is to have a name for that simple act which gives us a certainty as 
to the most elementary facts of " knowledge," or the facts of which 
we are most certain in our convictions. Sensation having been sup- 
posed to be a subjective fact in relation to stimulus does not express the 
idea of decisiveness which is associated with the idea of apprehension. 
Moreover sensation does not express the notion of being an act which 
is like attention in its directive or referential meaning, as apprehen- 
sion does. But however this may be, the exigencies of philosophic 
thought gave rise to the term which would combine all the assertiveness 
of judgment and all the immediacy of sensation, while it excluded the 
synthetic nature of judgment in connection with which illusion and error 
were found, at least in some of its manifestations. It is noticeable, there- 
fore, that apprehension, as a process of " knowledge," represents an act 
that gives a certain quantum of certitude at least and has associated with 
its import the positiveness, positing, or decision that affects the notion of 
" judgment" wholly apart from the question whether it is synthetic or 
not. Apprehension, therefore, expresses a simple act of consciousness 
with an object of which we can be certain, and without regard to any 
question affecting its complexity as an object, though that object may 
be only simple as a matter of fact. Apprehension, therefore, shall be 
treated as the simplest function of consciousness in the determination 
of certitude as an element of " knowledge." In this, however, I do 
not mean to say that apprehension is either the first temporally or the 
only condition of certitude as to facts or " knowledge," but that either 
the process or its object is the simplest with which an analysis and 
discussion of complex "knowledge" must begin. A more complete 
statement of its place and function in the general question will appear 
in the summarized account of the problem. At present I am content 
wnth the definition of the act and of its relation to sensation and 
mentation. 



CHAPTER V. 
CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 

In a previous chapter I showed that the term "knowledge" some- 
thiies expressed certitude of conviction and sometimes the unification 
of " experience." This was indicated for the purpose of calling atten- 
tion to two distinct problems which passed under that single term. I 
also pointed out the fact that in solving the problem in any form we 
had to distinguish between the process by which either result was ob- 
tained and the product or result itself. That is to say, " knowledge" 
is a name for a process as well as a product, the process being named 
as the means, evidence, or explanation of the way in which the prod- 
uct is obtained. Thus we are in the habit of saying that sensation is 
the process by w^hich w^e obtain a " knowledge" of the external world. 
Where we treat this purely as an affection of the organism, apprehen- 
sion, " perception," intuition are named as the processes determin- 
ing a conviction of external " reality." Judgment and reasoning come 
in as names for processes giving more complex conceptions in " knowl- 
edge." But in spite of the fact that analysis of " knowledge" brings 
us to the consideration of processes, the chief matter of interest is the 
product after all, as this is the subject of scepticism rather than mental 
activities. This is apparent in the very heading of this chapter where 
I have spoken of " synthetic knowledge." The illustrations of what 
this is will make the fact still more clear. For instance, such concep- 
tions as " universe," " evolution," " Copernican astronomy," " machin- 
ery " are not the product of any single function of intelligence, nor of 
several functions at any one time. How do we obtain these and the 
truths for which they stand? 

In the analysis of the functions covering the whole field of " knowl- 
edge" the reader will recall that I recognized but two functions of 
consciousness as required for the explanation and origin of all our 
•' knowledge." These were Apprehension or Intuition and Cognition 
or Judgment. I have shown what apprehension supplies and it re- 
mains to study cognition and the principles by which it effects its 
work. Apprehension was concerned with the simple objects of " ex- 
perience " unsystematized and unrelated, as in the individual states of 
sensation and mentation with the facts representing their objects. But 



lo8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

we come now to those complex ideas, if I may use that expression, or 
synthetic conceptions and judgments, which have always excited inter- 
est both for the process of their acquisition and for the test of their 
validity. It is in this field of cognition or synthetic conceptions that 
illusion, en^or, and fallacy most easily arise. We discover that con- 
victions, to which we had tenaciously held as self-evident or sujDposedly 
irrefutable, are exposed to doubt and even become obsolete. Others 
we still cling to as necessary for the regulation of conduct, and conse- 
quently we seek for some criterion to distinguish between the true and 
the false, and so to certify our hesitating beliefs. This certification 
varies between the assignment of the process by which the belief is 
formed and the cohesiveness of the product formed. For example, 
we have the conceptions of external "reality" substance, causality, 
soul, God, immortality, etc., and in the course of time the belief in the 
existence of all of them is brought into question. When this has been 
done various devices have been employed to defend the validity of 
some or all of them. "Intuition," "intuitive principles," "a priori 
truths," " categories " are terms that have been used or coined for the 
purpose of certifying certain of these conceptions, such as substance, 
causality, external "reality," etc. Ontological, cosmological, and 
teleological proofs have been the means of fortifying the belief in the 
existence of God, and various resources employed to fortify the belief 
in a soul and its survival after death. All these comprehensive con- 
ceptions are preceded by simpler complex ideas in the life of the indi- 
vidual which are traceable to the same general processes. It will be 
necessary, therefore, to determine the area of complex conceptions 
over which the discussion is to extend. 

There are two general divisions of conceptions which I shall have 
to note in the determination of this area. They are first the division 
into Singular and General concepts, and second that into Concrete and 
Abstract. A singular term or concept is represented by a group of 
facts, attributes or properties which are not repeated as such in any 
other individual. That is, the name for the group applies to no other 
group, or no other individual. This class of concepts is illustrated by 
proper names. We might also consider in the same way every indi- 
vidual group of facts or properties in the presentations of apprehension, 
in case such groups are possible. This class represents the purest 
form of concrete conceptions. Singular concepts are only concrete. 
A general concept is one which represents a number of individuals of 
the same kind to which the term is equally applicable. Thus ' tree,' 
'animal,' 'vertebrate' arc examples of this class. These terms may 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 109 

stand for a group of qualities as singular terms do, but if so this group 
must be of a like kind. The general term takes no account of quali- 
ties that are not common to all the individuals composing the class. 
It may even be limited to the one quality that is common. There is, 
how^ever, a characteristic of general terms or conceptions wdiich must 
be noticed. They may be regarded from two points of view. These 
ai"e called their intension and extension. Their intension is their 
qualitative power : their extension is their quantitative power. Their 
intension denotes the qualities for which they stand : their extension 
refers to their numerical capacity or the fact that they apply to more 
than one individual, even any indefinite number of them. In their 
intension they denote one or more like qualities ; in their extension 
they may denote numerical wholes including resemblances and differ- 
ences. That is to say, in their extension they are taken or conceived 
concretely, represented in consciousness by the individual wholes which 
help to constitute the class numerically, while intensively they are 
thought of in terms of their common properties. 

Before anything further is said about general terms it will be neces- 
sary to define and illustrate concrete and abstract concepts. A concrete 
concept is one which represents either a single subject of qualities or 
an attribute thought of as an attribute, or even a present group of them 
thought of as such. As said above the best illustration of a concrete 
term is the Singular concept. It is a p7cre concrete. An abstract 
concept is one which represents any fact or property conceived 
as if apart from the subject to which it actually belongs and repre- 
sented grammatically as itself a subject of qualities. Thus ' sweet- 
ness,' 'alacrity,' 'virtue' are abstract concepts. They are also 
nothing else in comparison with the concrete. That is, they are pure 
abstracts. 

• It is, however, only in connection with the distinction between 
Singular and General concepts that the terms concrete and abstract 
have any importance in the problem of knowledge as I expect to dis- 
cuss it. It is the fact that General concepts inay be described as 
mixed concrete and abstract terms. In their intensive or qualita- 
tive import they denote only a part of the real things to which they 
apply, namely, the common properties and hence maybe regarded as ab- 
stract. In their extensive or quantitative import they maybe described 
as concrete because they are names for the group of properties consti- 
tuting the individual wholes in the class. This fact of a mixed charac- 
ter affects the question of the processes involved in their formation. 
This will appear in its proper place. For the present it suffices to 



no THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

know that the problem of " knowledge" representing synthetic con- 
ceptions begins with the explanation of the formation of Singular and 
General concepts, and as all possible concepts of the human mind may 
be included in one or the other or both of these classes this problem 
also ends with the same results, though it may be in exceedingly com- 
plicated forms. I need not take any special account of collective 
concepts as these may be treated as either singular or general. I am 
concerned only with the fact of synthesis as the fundamental one after 
simple apprehension is explained or defined. I intend to assume, 
what I think is an indisputable fact, that all possible conceptions and 
beliefs can be reduced to one or the other of these two classes of con- 
ceptions, so that whatever process explains them in their simplest 
form will explain them in their most complicated form. 

I shall treat propositions as simply more complicated conceptio7is. 
So far as I can see they are nothing more than syntheses for which we 
have not adopted single terms to denote their meaning. For example, 
the concept ' man ' is a name for a certain group of qualities, whether 
intensively or extensively considered, and these qualities are so ap- 
parent, analytic in Kant's phrase, that we do not require to indicate 
them when the term is used. But if I require to' speak of any charac- 
teristics which are not analytically suggested, say in the proposition, 
' man is a laughing animal,' I am obliged to employ a ' judgment' in- 
stead of a singular term. If we had a singular term like ' man' for 
' laughing animal ' we should not require to use the proposition that 
' man is a laughing animal,' but simply the single term. Just as I 
should have to employ some proposition like ' the vertebrate which is 
a rational being, etc., is a biped, social, religious,' etc., if I did not 
have the term " man " to denote the group of qualities indicated. This 
is to say that the same " judgment " is involved in the formation of the 
syntheses expressed in conceptions as in propositions and the same in 
propositions as in conceptions. Propositions are only economic de- 
vices to prevent the multiplication of language. So far as the deriva- 
tion of " knowledge" is concerned they have to be treated in precisely 
the same way as conceptions. 

Now how is synthesis possible, to parody Kant's way of putting 
the question ? I am not asking when or how it is valid, but only how 
it is effected. The question of explanation and validification I pro- 
pose to keep separate from each other, as is not always done. I am 
only asking how we effect this synthesis in " knowledge," how do \ve 
come to group qualities and individual wholes in the way in ^vhich we 
do it as a fact. 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. m 

If we look for a moment at apprehension we can understand more 
clearly what is meant by this question. We found apprehension to 
represent a kind of immediate and direct " knowledge." In it the 
subject comes into immediate contact, as it were, with the fact 
" known." The fact " known " is presented immediately to con- 
sciousness, and it is a single fact. It does not represent a group of 
different properties in the same individual whole. The fact appre- 
hended is a single quality and even this may not be thought of as a 
quality, though it is this in fact. No attempt is made by apprehension 
to conceive or interpret the relative import of any fact. It is simply a 
presented " experience," a conscious fact, and in so far as the synthesis 
of which I am speaking is concerned, is a single isolated fact, simple 
in nature and without synthetic elements. Now it happens that, in 
such conceptions as " Charter Oak," or "tree," there are represented 
qualities or " percepts " that are either not apprehended, all of them, 
by the same sense or not apprehended by different senses at the same 
time, but are nevertheless in some way assigned to the same center of 
reference, that is have the same referee. The question, therefore, 
how is synthesis possible, pertains to this result. How do we come to 
form systems of conceptions which constitute what I have called syn- 
thetic " knowledge".^ How do we combine, or come to combine the 
objects of apprehension so that the synthesis represents what we call a 
concept as distinct from a " percept "? 

The general answer which I give to this question is expressed in 
the process of cognition or judgment. I have adopted these terms to 
express the generic character of all intellectual processes beyond ap- 
prehension. In the adoption of them it will be noticed that I have 
widened the common import of the term " judgment " to include what 
is commonly expressed by conception, judgment and reasoning, as in- 
dicated heretofore. I use the term cognition as one convenient philo- 
logically to suggest the synthetic nature of the intellectual process 
concerned, and the term judgment to express both the assertory or 
positing character of the act and the affiliation of the doctrine to be 
presented with the general tendency of thought in and since Kant. 

It is in the function or result of judgment that the question of truth 
or validity has always been raised. When any assertion is made, the 
sceptic puts in his query for the ground of the assertion. He asks, 
'*' How do we know?" As indicated above the answer to this question 
has been embodied in various expressions like "intuition," "intuitive 
principles," etc. If asked, for instance, how we knew that God 
existed, the answer was that in its last analysis it represented the 



112 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

application of the " intuitive principle" of causality to the phenomena 
of nature. If asked how we knew that an external world existed we 
received some such answer as that it was "intuitively" known, that 
it was an immediate object of " perception" and not subject to doubt, 
etc. This way of solving the question gave rise to a system of so- 
called " intuitive principles " which were treated as the basal assump- 
tions of all intellectual processes of the higher sort. In the Kantian 
system they received the name of " Categories of judgment." It was 
the English school that confined itself to phrases like " intuitive truths." 
What was meant in both schools was that there were certain '-' laws of 
thought," ultimate or fundamental assumptions, necessary assumptions, 
if you like, which lay at the basis of all intellectual synthesis. Unfor- 
tunately the assumption of them v^as applied equally to determine 
explanation and validification at the same time. It may be that the 
final analysis will show that this can be done in some instances, but I 
shall not confuse the two questions. The laws of thought may or may 
not be necessary, may or may not validate assertion, so far as I am 
concerned. I shall merely occupy myself \vith the explanation of 
synthesis by indicating the processes and the assumptions involved in 
effecting the synthesis. The tendency to svnthesis occurs in the dis- 
position to unify " experience." Now on what principles can we or 
do we unify " experience"? 

The demand for synthesis arises when we discover that facts are 
not isolated things; when we discover that " phenomena " exist in 
relations ; when we observe that events begin in time and we wish to 
know why they occur at all ; when we wish to know why certain 
facts are found together instead of separately from each other. We 
seek the meaning of facts, their interpretation, their indication of some- 
thing more than themselves. All of this implies unity and synthesis. 
On what principles does this synthetic action of the subject proceed? 
What assumptions do we make, whether necessary or contingent, ^vhen 
we thus form judgments unifying or synthetizing " experience"? 

The English school answered this question in the general form of 
" intuitive and necessar}^ truths," which it did not systematically classify. 
Kant answered it by his system of categories. These were regarded 
as the principles of judgment, and indicated by him to be the " formal 
principles" of the same. But whether "formal" or "material" they 
were the conditions of synthetic intellection or thought. 

In order to show ho\v cognition or judgment effects its svntheses it 
will be necessary to exhibit a table of principles on ^vhich it proceeds, 
and it will be best to examine the Kantian system in order to show 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 113 

how this table of principles both grows out of that system and how it 
differs from it. 

Quantity, quality, relation and modality were not properly "cate- 
gories " in the Kantian system, but the names for the various types of 
them. I need not repeat them here, as I can assume an adequate 
knowledge of them for my purposes at present. Nor need I repeat 
the criticisms which have often been made regarding them and the 
manner in which Kant obtained them. All that I require to remark 
is the fact that they were drawn from formal logic and used to charac- 
terize the various forms of judgment. Now it is noticeable that Kant 
does not engage in any discussion of the general problem of judgment 
in the theory of "knowledge," nor does he provide any systematic 
analysis of his problem which would exhibit the generic function of 
judgment, though I think it only fair to say that he most probably con- 
ceived it as the fundamental characteristic of all "knowledge" beyond 
sensation (Empfindung and Wahrnemung) . His "understanding" 
(Verstand) probably had no other function. But I think at the same 
time that he does not make this view as clear as he should have done. 
But whether this is true or not, it is certain that he began his work 
with assumptions drawn from the formal logic of his time and compli- 
cated it with conceptions of that subject in a way that makes it neces- 
sary briefly to review its nature in order to rightly understand the 
functions which Kant assigned to the categories and to prepare the 
way for modifying his doctrine while accepting the main contention 
that synthetic "knowledge" is determined by the action of "cate- 
gories." 

The proper function of logic has not always been clear. It has 
fluctuated between a wider and a narrower conception. This is 
especially true since Kant ^vhose example in the Kritik made it more 
or less convertible with the idea of epistemology and many German 
writers still treat it as such. Aristotle, of course, conceived it as the 
organon of "knowledge" generally, but scholastic writers, while they 
conceived it as the organon of "knowledge," reduced this to what we 
call formal logic and made this convertible with the ratiocinative 
processes. This was the conception of it at the time of Kant. But 
though the definition of it was that it concerned the laws of thought 
it was not always made clear whether the laws of thought, in so far 
as they determined legitimacy, extended over conception and judgment, 
or were limited to the ratiocinative process. But when it is noticed 
that there were no rules for determining the validity of conception and 
judgment and that the validity of reasoning seemed to be the important 

8 



114 THE rnOBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and supreme object of logical science, it becomes apparent that we 
may treat conceptions and judgments as constitutive materials of the 
syllogism. This is the way that they have usually been treated, espe- 
cially in all modern times. The syllogism is an instrument or mechanism 
which has its elements and these have to be defined and explained in 
order to make the general subject clear. These elements are concep- 
tions and judgments. The definition and explication of their meaning 
does not vindicate their validity, but only indicate their function in 
constituting the conditions under which the syllogism is formed and 
reasoning exercised. Consequently logic became a science of the 
validity of the ratiocinative process. As this process was not de- 
pendent upon the validity of any of its constituent elements or matter, 
but only by the acts by which the conclusion or inference was drawn 
in conformity with certain principles, it was not necessary to raise any 
questions regarding the functions of conception and judgment in the 
problem of " knowledge," because the only '* knowledge" immediatelv 
concerned was the ratiocinative. If then the legitimacy of our reason- 
ing process be the main problem of formal logic, conception and judg- 
ment have a very subordinate place in it. The question of their 
validity or invalidity does not affect the issue of reasoning, whatever 
may be said about the material truth of the conclusion. This is 
equivalent to saying that the la^vs for valid reasoning may be inde- 
pendent of the criteria for the validity of conception and judgment. 
Now when this is once admttted it will be apparent that we can re- 
ceive no help from formal logic and its accessories in the more funda- 
mental problem of "knowledge." 

The most important circumstance to be noted after the above con- 
clusion has been stated is the fact that the legitimacy of the syllogistic 
process depends, for its external credentials, upon the quantity and 
quality of the propositions constituting it. The rules for determining 
when it is valid and when not are embodied in the moods and figures, 
which are based upon the characteristics of quantity and quality in the 
propositions involved along with the general principle of identity. The 
conceptions or categories of relation and modality have no place what- 
ever in this question. Owing to this fact they have gradually dropped 
out of the discussions of formal logic, thovigh thev receive cursory 
mention occasionally because of the inertia of tradition in the treat- 
ment of logic. The effect of all this has been to make the subject of 
logic formal in a far deeper sense than is often supposed, as it totally 
excludes the material truth of every proposition from its consideration. 
This is concealed from the general student, and often from the teacb.er 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 115 

himself, by the fact that we are constantly taught that logic is a method 
of proving the truth. This is correct enough under limitations. But 
it is nothing more than a guide to the correct systematization of prop- 
ositions, an arrangement for guiding thought in its transitions so that 
error does not creep into results when it is not in the premises. That 
is all it can accomplish in its formal function. Ratiocination can be 
legitimate whether the judgments involved are true or not. Under 
this conception of the matter the syllogism is not concerned with the 
truth of either premise or conclusion, but only with the process of 
transition. The real question of " knowledge " is thus referred to 
other than ratiocinative processes for its 77iaterial characteristics. 
Whether the ratiocinative process is of the nature of judgment or not 
has to be determined by the functions assigned to that process, but 
with the conception of formal logic as just indicated it is evident that 
the problem of " knowledge" lies wholly outside its province. 

Now whether the fundamental and comprehensive function of 
"knowledge" shall be assigned to judgment, after discovering that its 
origin is not ratiocinative, will depend upon two questions : (i) What 
is "knowledge"? and (2) What range of application shall be given to 
the term " judgment " ? 

In his system Kant has not made clear what he meant by " knowl- 
edge." We are never informed whether it is certitude of conviction 
or the unification of experience. It is apparent on the surface that he 
has the latter conception in mind, though he may tacitly assume that 
it is this unification of experience that determines the measure of cer- 
titude in all cases, as this seems to be the position taken by some 
writers, and Kant has recognized that consistency is at least a negative 
criterion of truth. I may agree that both factors, unification and cer- 
titude, enter into complete "knowledge," but this does not affect the 
fact that they are separate factors. Each has its own function or cri- 
terion in the problem. But the failure to analyze the issues in a way 
to recognize the two aspects of the problem causes a concealment of 
the fundamental question, namely the distinction between the validity 
of a process and its function in unification. It is certitude that is far 
more closely related to validity than systematization. Besides this 
question of certitude was the issue raised by Hume and not the problem 
of unification at all. The problem of scepticism is that of certitude 
and not that of unification, and any attempt to answer its question by a 
process of unification indicates either an ignorance or an evasion of 
the issue. If it is a problem to show how I come to have certain con- 
ceptions the process of unifying experience may be an adequate ex- 



Il6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

planation of the result, but it is not a certification of it. Generally in 
the history of philosophy, and especially after Descartes and Hume the 
problem of " knowledge" was to determine what I could be certain of 
and therefore what I could accept as true, not merely how did I get it 
or how " complex ideas " originate. The primary question was, ' what 
can I accept as true ' ? This was what was meant by the query, ' what 
can I know ' ? or ' what can I believe ' ? no matter how I got it. That this 
certitude of conviction was implied in the term "knowledge" is appa- 
rent in the Kantian system, though it is not distinctly and consciously 
recognized and separated from the question of unification which seems 
to be the main purpose of Kant to explain in his conception of 
" knowledge " as synthesis. In assigning the functions of the cate- 
gories he showed that it was this synthesis that he had in mind. Con- 
sequently the impression left by his system is that "knowledge" ap- 
plies to the product of judgment and not to other processes. On this 
view of the case it would be excluded from sensation and " perception," 
which might not exclude certitude as to the facts or phenomena of 
" experience." Just at the point where Kant should have defined the 
limits of extension for the term " knowledge," indicating whether it had 
any application to the certitude of immediate apprehension or not and 
thus showing whether he was conscious of the equivocal import of the 
problem to be solved, he has allowed himself to concentrate so much 
emphasis upon synthesis as the fundamental conception of "knowl- 
edge " that he forgot what the problem of Descartes and Hume was, 
and conceived it after the manner of Locke as a question of derivation 
rather than certification. 

In addition to defining the sphere of " knowledge," whether limited 
to the syntheses of judgment or extending to the field of apprehension, 
he should have made it clear whether he admitted judgment into " per- 
ception " or not. If it did not enter into the process of " perception," it 
would be clear from the wide function which he at least tacitly ascribes 
to judgment that " knowledge " in Kant's sense was convertible only 
wuth the systematization of experience and obtained no certitude which 
was not imported into it from that experience. If it did constitute a 
part of the process of " perception," then Kant has not fully explained 
his doctrine. In fact he simply played fast and loose about this point 
in a way that makes almost an}^ statement about it possible, so that it 
is only a matter of individual opinion as to what his real intentions 
were. It is evident in any case that he intended to superpose judgment 
upon "experience," whatever that meant, making judgment an addi- 
tional function of consciousness. It was customary at his time, and 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 117 

even later, to consider judgment as arising after sensation and " percep- 
tion " have done their work, and after conceptions have been formed, so 
that in this view of the process it was one unifying experience and not 
giving content to it, or in any way a part of it. It is, of course, only a 
matter of definition whether this limitation of its function shall be ac- 
cepted or not, and if it did not, with this limitation, solve the problem 
of " knowledge " the process would have to be otherwise named. But 
everything in the solution depended upon the nature of the sensation 
and " perception" with which w^e started and the function of judgment 
associated with it. If the primary and initial processes of " knowl- 
edge " contained valid convictions in regard to objective reality judg- 
ment, in being merely superposed upon them, only systematized the 
disordered data of " experience" and performed only a formal service 
in the process. But if sensation and " perception " were only subjective 
states and gave no reality but phenomena, judgment would either have 
to supply the objective content, the conviction as to a reality not given 
in the " experience," or it would again only have the purely formal 
function of unifying phenomena, leaving reality as wholly " unknown" 
and " imknowable." 

Now Kant does not sufficiently analyze his problem and hence does 
-not make it clear to us which of these alternatives he takes. His actual 
treatment of the subject in various situations and the language employed 
would lead to the view that sometimes he took one of them and some- 
times the other. For he speaks of sensation in a way to imply that 
it is a purely subjective " phenomenon " with no meaning as " reality," 
unless this is given by "perception" ( Wahrnehung) , and then 
fluctuates between the conception of judgment as being "objective" 
and as having a purely constructive function. But w^hen we discover 
that his " objective" is only " universality," or true for other minds as 
well as the one having the state at the time, we see that, whether with 
or without adequate reason for belief in the existence of other minds 
than his ov\^n, his conception of " objective" is only an equivocal way 
of treating the facts as subjective and not necessarily indicating any 
external fact to mind whatever. Hence with the current and tradi- 
tional conception of judgment as a functional process applied to given 
data before him it was natural that Kant's treatment of the categories 
should assign to them a purelv formal function in the synthesis of " ex- 
perience." Whatever he may have really intended by it in the last 
analysis of " knowledge," the place that they actually had in formal 
logic, which Kant himself considered as a purely formal science, inev- 
itably suggested the idea that they did not give but systematized 



iiS THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

reality. In logic quantity, quality, relation and modality were sup- 
posed to be "formal" instead of "material" elements of judgment, 
and as judgment was not assumed to give any content to " knowledge" 
their " formal " character was doubly certified in their limitations, 
namely, by the exclusion of judgment from sensation and " perception " 
and by the traditions of formal logic. It is of course not clear always 
what Kant meant by making the categories "formal" principles of 
judgment, as he so frequently employed scholastic terms and distinc- 
tions with a change of meaning, but the genius of his system, as ex- 
pressed in his insistence upon the anthropocentric point of view, his 
Copernican analogy, justifies us in assuming that he did not mean to 
give them the " objective " implications which some schools of phi- 
losophy assumed. But however this may be, " formal " in usual par- 
lance indicates a conception definite enough in the definition of the 
elements and conditions of the syllogism. Here it denotes merely a 
mode of statement ^vhich is not at all concerned with the subject matter 
or truth of a proposition, but which has to be uniformily stated in order 
that we may know what is meant by assertions. The inference in the 
syllogism depends on conformity to these formal considerations \vhether 
the conclusion as a proposition be true or not. But when it was found 
that only quantity and quality of propositions were concerned with the 
validity of reasoning the characteristics known as relation and modalitv 
were no longer useful in the problem of logic as the science of reason- 
ing, whatever value they might have in defining " material " elements 
in judgments or propositions which have to be explained in the problem 
of " knowledge." In the process of development these categories be- 
came a part of the niea^iing oi propositions and not their " form." 
This has especially been the course of development in logic since Kant. 
They are hardly even mentioned except to reject them as irrelevant to 
its problems. The consequence is that " formal " obtains a purely 
relative import. That character which may be " formal " for one ob- 
ject maybe " material " for another. This is perhaps admitted bv 
most philosophers to-day, but the significance of the fact for a modifi- 
cation of the problems of "knowledge" is not sufiicientlv emphasized 
and made use of in dealing with the Kantian doctrine. It indicates 
a change in the character of the problem of "knowledge" of which 
Kant was either not conscious or did not adequately reckon with, if 
he was aware of it. As long as logic was considered the organon of 
conviction and so of truth, and as long as it assumed that the means 
to this end ^vas the ratiocinative process, the question of "form " ^vas 
not scrutinized too closely. Scholastic philosophers assumed that the 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 119 

truth was in some way fortified, if it was not originated, by syllogistic 
reasoning, and little attention was paid to the distinction between val- 
idity of process and validity of results, especially as long as relation 
and modality were admitted elements of the data to which ratiocination 
was applied. Only when relation and modality were excluded from 
the " formal " principles of reasoning did the mind become aware that 
the truth of the conclusion depended upon the initial truth of the prem- 
ises, while the legitimacy of the logical inference was determined by 
the " formal " principles of quantity and quality, and the other " cate- 
gories " had nothing to do with its result. It is evident, therefore, 
why relation and modality dropped out of consideration in " formal " 
logic, and henceforth there will be no reason for treating them on the 
same level or as in the same class, unless we also intend to assume that 
quantity and quality may have other functions than the " formal" ser- 
vice ascribed to them. But it is certain, whether we class them to- 
gether as "categories" or not, that they cannot all have the same 
functions in "formal" logic, in so far as the mere ratiocinative process 
is concerned. If they were accepted as giving meajiing or content to 
the material of the syllogism it would be different, but all that infer- 
ence requires as its criterion is modes of statement that insure the 
proper application of the principle of identity, and relation and modal- 
ity are not necessary to this, unless we are dealing with " material" 
considerations in the syllogism, which we are not now supposed to do. 
What Kant ought to have made clear, if he saw it at all, was that the 
problem of " knowledge" was prior to all processes and conditions of 
" formal " ratiocination, and hence that his categories should not be 
drawn from the principles of logic, or that the ' ' categories " of quan- 
tity and quality could not have a " formal " import in the theory of 
" knowledge." Any other conception of the case would require us to 
retain relation and modality as "formal" principles of reasoning 
which, in fact, no one will admit. There is then a fundamental diffi- 
culty with Kant's conception of the categories, unless we assign the 
function of determining the meaning of propositions, which intro- 
duces the idea of " matter" rather than " form" into their interpreta- 
tion. But if this is what we are to do with them how far have we 
gotten in the problem of ' ' knowledge " ? The function of deter- 
mining meaning does not determine validity, and it was validity that 
was required to answer the doubts of scepticism. But what shall 
be the criterion of validity if the categories only indicate the meaning 
of propositions and if ineaning does not guarantee its own validity? 
In order to answer this question we must examine for a moment a 



I20 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

matter which Kant seems not to have noticed, and perhaps could not 
notice, until the develojDment of formal logic had eliminated the con- 
sideration of the categories of relation and modality from its functions. 
This is the question of universality in judgment and that of causality, 
assumed also to be a category affecting the " formality " of judgments. 
'''• Universality " is one of the categories of quality and has served the 
function of a criterion of truth in the history of sjDCCulation with im- 
plications quite distinct from the other two categories under the same 
head. Now Hume had questioned the validity of the idea of caus- 
ality, though he did not dispute that of universality. Now if the cate- 
gories determine only the meaning of propositions and scepticism can 
question the validity of some of them it can be consistent only in ex- 
tending its doubts to all of them and include universality as well as 
relation and modality which are frequently enough disputed. Now as 
universality has often appeared as a criterion of truth and cannot yet, 
in the eyes of Hume, guarantee causality, it is possible to raise the 
sceptical question with regard to itself, unless certain reasons may oc- 
cur to render this impossible. Hence, so far as I can see, there is no 
common characteristic in Kant's system of categories except the idea 
of meaning- or material import, and this neither implied validity nor 
had formal application in ratiocination. If they perform " formal '' 
functions for judgment in any other field it will be necessary either to 
extend the operation of judgment into sensation and " perception," 
where the " material " of " knowledge " is obtained, or to assign the cate- 
gories no function but that of unifying or systematizing " experience,'' 
which is Hume's associative synthesis and Locke's formation of " com- 
plex ideas " by the understanding. To give validity besides meaning 
the categories should have some definite relation or significance in 
"experience" as interpreting it, not merely synthetizing it. It is 
claimed, of course, that Kant meant this, but it is certain that he does 
not expressly indicate it, while the categories are assigned such a 
formal function in " knowledge " that we inevitably conceive them as 
unifying rather than as interpreting phenomena. There is nothing in 
Kant to show that he meant his categories as modes of interpreting 
experience, but only as systematizing it, and as his followers insist that 
he made " experience " mei'ely " phenomenal " there is no ground in 
his doctrine for the objective world, as he apparently asserted it, but 
everything is purely subjective, as with the Greek relativists. 

There is a further confusion in his treatment of the categories. He 
includes causality among the categories, but he does not indicate how 
this can be a " formal " characteristic of logical judgments. He gives 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. I2i 

no illustrations of causal judgment and one is puzzled to know what 
could be given for it, though quantity and quality, and perhaps re- 
lation and modality, are easily enough illustrated. If causality is a 
"formal" principle of judgment it should be illusti'ated in a type of 
assertion just as quantity and quality can be illustrated. This simply 
shows that Kant had not worked out his doctrine of the categories as 
he should have done. Either they are not "formal" principles of 
judgment at all or they must show a common feature in their relation 
to judgment. Now every judgment is based upon the connection of 
subject and predicate before quantity can be admitted as a character- 
istic, thus making quantity a purely subordinate " category," if it is to 
be treated as one at all. The categories, if they have any capacity for 
classification, should represent the proper variations of the connection 
between subject and predicate. The characteristic of quantity does 
not relate to this connection as such but to its extension. It does not 
indicate the meaning of the relation subsisting between subject and 
predicate but only to the quantity of the subject to which the relation 
may be applicable. The categories of quality satisfy the principle of 
classification, but those of modality do not, as they represent the de- 
gree of tenacity with which the mind may hold the connection. That 
is, they have to do with conviction and not with the nature of the 
matter dealt with in the judgment. It is thus clear why scholastic 
logic admitted them into its province, as conviction had to be associated 
with the premises in order to obtain a place in the conclusion. They 
thus represented " matter" and not "form" in reasoning, and had to 
be excluded from logic the moment that ratiocination was valued only 
for its formal functions. Under the categories of relation only one of 
them can be illustrated in a type of judgments. This is that of sub- 
stance and attribute, but there is no form of judgment for reciprocity 
and none for causality which cannot be reduced to that of substance 
and attribute. Hence Kant should not have chosen logical " forms " 
for his categories with all the misunderstanding which they were cal- 
culated to produce. 

Of course, Kant had in mind, not the linguistic and grammatical 
considerations which logic in its formal functions has to respect, but 
the zuays in which the mind thinks about its objects. Laws of 
thought were his idea of the categories and his "forms" were modes 
of action and not modes of expression. But while this is the real point 
of view from which Kant has to be interpreted and represents a proper 
way to view the fundamental principles of thought, Kant should not 
have drawn them from formal logic and should have given them 



122 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

another function than that of the mere unification of phenomena or the 
formal systematization of " experience," which did not take him beyond 
Hume's associative synthesis. It may be that nothing else is possible. 
With that question I have nothing to do at present. It is Kant's incon- 
sistency in the matter that is the subject of remark, since he was pre- 
tending to refute the philosophy of Hume. Had he cut himself loose 
from the limitations of formal logic, as his break with scholastic dog- 
matism required him to do, he might have seen that it was as much a 
duty to recast the classification of judgments as it was to classify the 
categories. But he did not wholly free himself from the shackles of 
the system which he resented and the consequence was that he remained 
under the illusion of the formal methods which it was the genius of 
Hume to have reduced to extremities. 

vSchopenhauer simplified the matter by reducing the laws of thought 
to four, and even these he made subdivisions of one, namely, the Law 
of Sufficient Reason. His four principles were the i-atio essendi^ 
ratio Jiendi^ ratio agendi^ and ratio cognoscejtdi. These may be 
expressed as the nature^ catise^ end, and evidence of facts or realitv. 
I am not at present concerned with either the merits or demerits of this 
simiplification, as it does not affect the problem which I am discussing, 
namely, that of judgment formally considered, but only the possibility 
of reducing the number of fundamental principles of " knowledge." 
When this is once accepted, and especially when we remark the 
possibility of assuming but one general principle, that of Sufficient 
Reason, or the tendency to explain " phenomena," we mav proceed to 
examine the forms of judgment with reference to the embodiment of 
this principle and not with reference to the requirements of formal 
logic, which has to do, not with the acquisition of "knowledge" as 
interpretation, but with the transmission of it as conviction. Kant had 
neglected to remark that the problem of " knowledge," apart from 
ratiocination and in so far as it ^vas a question of judgment, was con- 
cerned with the connection between subject and predicate and not with 
the principles affecting only the moods and figures of the syllogism. 
Consequently he did not see that his first dutv lay in a new classification 
of the forms of judgments and then the determination of the categories 
afterward. In other words, the types of judgment should have been 
the primary problem of inquiry instead of merelv assuming that formal 
logic determined them, especially as logic had been abandoned as the 
primary condition of solving the problem of "knowledge." 

The criticism of Kant's method of obtaining the categories and the 
conclusion from it suggests the task which lies before the epistemolo- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 123 

gist at the outset of his inquiries. This has been stated to be a classifi- 
cation of judgments. This duty of course, is relative to the functions 
ascribed to judgment, and these functions in the psychological analysis 
of the processes of " knowledge" are so general that judgment appears 
to represent the one type of mental action to which all intellectual 
synthesis is reducible. What are the specific forms of it that justify 
the assumption of more than a single category or law of thought? 
Either there will be only one form of judgment with plural categories 
simultaneously applicable to interpret its content, if there be more 
than one such principle at all, or there will be various types of judg- 
ment to suit the various modes of interpreting facts of " experience." 

There have been various classifications of judgments which inight 
be made to pass under review here if it was my purpose to reject any 
of them as a condition of adopting the one which recommends itself 
here. But I shall treat existing classifications of judgment in the same 
manner as the classifications of the sciences have been treated, namely, 
as relatively valid and useful. Hence I shall not imply any invidious 
reflections in suggesting the classification which suits the purpose of 
the theory of " knowledge " as I wish to discuss it here. This will be 
especially true when it is remarked that the classification which I pro- 
pose actually includes the various systems which it might be supposed 
to supplant or reject. This should be kept in mind. 

Whatever their content, therefore, I would reduce all judgments to 
two types which I shall call intensive and extensive judgments, the 
terms " intensive" and " extensive " being adopted partly for the con- 
venience of economic expression and partly as descriptive of certain 
characteristics found in the judgments so named. By "intensive" 
judgments I mean to describe those which express the relation of 
substance and attribute between subject and predicate. For example, 
" Snow is white," " Sugar is sweet," "Matter is heavy." Nor will 
such judgments as " John struck James," " The sun heats the earth," 
" Snow melts with heat," be any exception to this conception of the 
class. We have only to observe that the idea of " substance" is rep- 
resented in the subject and that " attributes " may be divided into static 
and dynamic, as is usual in all the sciences, w'hether phvsical or meta- 
physical, to bring these propositions under the class indicated. All 
verbal predicates, transitive or intransitive, may be treated in this way 
for the sake of showing \\\& formal mode in which the intensive judg- 
ment expresses itself, though there will be certain philosophic reasons 
for keeping the two modes of thought distinct from each other. This 
will be taken up later, but in the meantime we have only to recognize 



134 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

that there are two types of the intensive judgment, the one representing 
a static relation between subject and predicate and the other a dynamic 
relation between subject and object or two subjects, using "subject" 
in its metaphysical sense. 

By "extensive" judgments I mean those which express the rela- 
tion of species and genus between subject and predicate. For ex- 
ample, "Iron is a metal," "Apples are fruit," "Man is a biped." 
There is but one type of these, and the nature of the relation expressed 
limits the form of statement to the copulative, and neither the tran- 
sitive nor intransitive form of verbal expression is possible in them. 
Formal logic requires us to reduce both forms to the latter type, as 
may be done, in order to make reasoning universally applicable to 
judgments. This is rendered possible by the fact that the intensive 
propositions can be metamorphosed into the extensive by substituting 
class terms for the predicate. But as I am dealing with problems be- 
yond that of formal logic I do not accept this simplification of the 
matter as expressing what our problem requires. Indeed were it not 
that attributes may be divided into static and dynamic I should have to 
recognize three distinct types of judgment in the problem, which it 
■would be convenient for certain purposes to do. But as the act of 
mind explaining a static attribute by reference to its subject, substance 
or ground, is very like that of referring an effect to its cause, an event 
to its dynamic antecedent, and also as the circumstance that all scien- 
tific and philosophic reflection inclines to the reduction of all attributes 
to the dynamic type, we may as well simplify the case by the divisions 
adopted and resort to the distinction between static and dynamic 
attributes when it is necessary to distinguish between a w^orld of mi- 
manent reality and a world of transeunt forces, or between a world 
without and a world with a comj?ierciu?}i of relations, a monistic and 
a pluralistic conception of things. 

There is a form of " thinking" or conceiving facts which assumes 
the expression of the intensive judgment but is governed by the prin- 
ciple or category that determines the meaning of the extensive judg- 
ment. This form of thinking and representation is very common, so 
common that we might even say with some plausibility that it describes 
our general mode of thought, and it might even be seized upon by the 
phenomenalist to illustrate and prove the purely " phenomenal " and 
associative nature of all cognition or synthesis. I shall take this up 
again when I have indicated the categories w^hich regulate synthetic 
thought and which are not increased or diminished by this peculiar 
mode of thought. For the classification of judgments in form of ex- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 125 

pression and for ultimate reflection the intensive and the extensive re- 
main as the primary types. The form that appears to be an exception 
and to afford apparent ground for a third class is, in meaning, a sort 
of converse of the intensive which simply turns it into the extensive. 
It arises thus, as in the example " Snow is white." It may be claimed 
that the subject "snow" has no other meaning than the particular 
" white " which is here said to be its attribute, and that we identify it 
by the perception of this particular " white." This is to say that we 
should know nothing of " snow " but for the experience of a given 
quality of " white." This is true enough, whether we consider that 
this substance is a S3'^nthesis of other qualities at the same time or not. 
The predicate may be treated as only a way of explaining what we 
mean by the word, in which case there is a kind of identity between 
subject and predicate. It is true that I come to know what " snow" 
is by first perceiving its quality "white," and hence it is the ratio 
cognoscendi of its existence and so a criterion of the conditions under 
which the word "snow" is applicable, but while this identifies the 
representative conception of subject and predicate in the proposition 
and explains how I come to know^ the subject " snow," it does not 
eliminate the idea of substance when a further question is asked as to 
the implications of the predicate as a phenomenon or attribute demand- 
ing a ground or explanation, so that ultimately the two-fold division of 
judgments still holds good, except so far as we may desire to distin- 
guish between the causal and the substantive judgment within the in- 
tensive class. The intensive judgment is based upon an cetiological 
relation or conception of subject and predicate. 

Now it is to be observed that the intensive judgments express in 
some form the idea of ground or cause as the relation between subject 
and predicate, whether affirmed or denied. Extensive judgments ex- 
press some notion of identity or difference between subject and predi- 
cate, according to whether the relation is affirmative or negative. The 
principles which thus give meaning to these judgments may be called 
in Kent's phrase categories, as representing laws of thought. They 
indicate the way in which the facts of " experience" are explained or 
made intelligible. In the intensive judgment the predicate is conceived 
as a function or attribute of something and as such is referred to the 
subject as its ground or cause and hence does not appear as self- 
dependent. In the extensive judgment the predicate is not so referred, 
but the subject is referred to the predicate as the class to which it 
belongs or does not belong, and hence the predicate appears as the 
index of the qualities belonging to the subject, though these are not 



126 THE PliOBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

specifically stated. The object of the extensive judgment is to make 
the subject intelligible in terms of the predicate or to indicate the 
identity or difference between them. It does not directly explain in 
terms of causal ideas, but only indicates that, whatever explanation in 
terms of a cause be considered, it is the same for subject and predicate. 
It assigns what may be called the material or ontological element of a 
concept by comparison with another already known. The extensive 
judgment is thus based upon an ontological conception of the relation 
between subject and predicate. 

This analysis gives us two fundamental types of categories as regu- 
lative of the meaning of all propositions in respect of the relation be- 
tween subject and predicate. But there is the question of the com- 
plexity of meaning involved in the conceptions of subject and predicate 
and their quantity. Concepts usually imply a synthesis of qualities, 
so that the problem of "knowledge" is as much concerned w^ith the 
determination of this synthesis as it is with that of subject and predi- 
cate. How does this synthesis come to take place. Besides there is 
the question of the universality of judgments which involves the ques- 
tion of extending the assertion or denial as well as originally forming 
it. Certain principles or laws of thought are involved, in this as well 
as in the primary connection between subject and predicate, and so 
also in the synthesis of conceptions. 

The consequence is that we require other categories for the com- 
plete explication of judgment in all its aspects. I shall therefore enum- 
erate what I conceive to be the categories necessary to explain the 
fundamental process of judgment in the determination of " knowledge." 
They are space^ time^ stibstance and attribute^ cause and effect^ tuiity.^ 
plurality ^ s ifnilarity ^ diversity and relation^ including coexistence 
and sequence, and possibly one might also include inhesion and nexus, 
the former for the relation between substance and attribute and the 
latter for that between cause and effect, although it is possible to re- 
duce them to forms of coexistence and sequence. There are finally the 
categories of modality^ which include possibility, probability, certi- 
tude and necessity, certitude being added to the list of Kant and repre- 
senting much the same tenacitv of conviction as necessity, but not the 
same exclusion of other possibilities. There are situations in which 
it is not easy, if ever, to distinguish between certitude and necessity, 
as the latter implies the former, and often relies upon it as a creden- 
tial. But as there is a feeling of certitude which does not imply neces- 
sity, just as there is a feeling of possibility that does not implv any 
probability we may well recognize a serial order of states of conviction 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 



137 



or degree of tenacity in regard to beliefs in which the later involve 
and absorb the earlier ones. 

Whether it is possible to logically classify the categories will de- 
pend upon the question w4iether any general principles of classification 
can be obtained. I think this can be done. I have already called 
attention to the close relation between causal and substantive concep- 
tions, and also to the fact that identity and difference have a sort of 
common function in determining the relation between subject and 
predicate in extensive judgments. Both of them express some concep- 
tion of what may be called reality by which I ixiay mean anything 
which is distinguishable from non-existence on the one hand and from 
relation and modality on the other and so indicating the facts in con- 
nection with which relation and conviction are possible. I may there- 
fore give a table of classification and explain it afterward. 

Space. 
Time. 
Static. 



jMetrological. 



Reality. ' 



Categories. , 



Relation. 



Phenomenological. 



^"Etiological. 



Ontological. 



f Coexistence. 



Attribute. 
Dynamic Mode. 
Static. Substance. 
Dynamic. Cause. 



Identity. 



Difference. 



Ground. Noumenal. 

Action. Phenomenal. 
(Unity. Numero eadem. 
I Similarity. Arte eadem. 
{ Plurality. Numero diversa. 
( Diversity. Arie diversa. 



(sequence. 

(Possibility. 
Probability. 
•' ICertitude. 
\Necessity. 

The principles employed in the classification of the sciences (p. 25) 
explain the grounds on which some of the above categories are reduced 
to systematic relations and no further elucidation of these principles is 
necessary. I have treated them as all forms of Reality in the sense 
defined. The only thing that remains to be made clear is the treat- 
ment of identity and difference, and their relation to unity and plural- 
ity. We are all familiar with the usage of the terms "Identity" and 
" Contradiction" as principles of thought in formal logic, but we do 
not always stop to consider their equivocal import. Besides in meta- 
physical and epistemological problems it is better to use the term 
"Difference" than " Contradiction" which conceals the meaning im- 
portant for other than logical relations. Hence I have here employed 
the terms "Identity" and " Difference " to denote two categories of 



128 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

thought reducible to the general type of ontological or "material" 
principles of conception. But they each have a double or equivocal 
import. There is mathematical and generic " identity," and mathe- 
matical and generic "difference." Mathematical "identity" is ex- 
pressed in logic by the judgment " A is A," in which we denote one 
and the same thing. There is no distinction whatever between sub- 
ject and predicate, not even in number. Hence there is an application 
of the principle of identity which means numerical identitv, numerical 
unity or individuality, and is represented in thought by sameness in 
space or what we may call punctual identity. Hence the maxim 
nu?nero eadem as expressing its nature. But generic " identity" im- 
plies plurality of objects and likeness of kind. It is represented by the 
extensive judgment " A is B." The judgment affirms the inclusion 
of A in B as of the same kind though mathematically different. Hence 
the maxim arte eadem as expressing the nature of subject and predicate. 
The same general principles apply to the import of the categon,- of 
" difference." The differences between objects may be either mathe- 
matical or generic. They may be of the same kind, but individually or 
numerically distinct, and hence the difference gives rise only to plurality. 
Possibly the formal statement of this fact would be " K is not A," 
where we have two A's compared. Again the differences between 
objects or between aspects of the same object may be of kind and not 
merely in number. Hence we have qualitative difference to express by 
the term which often coincides also with the mathematical difference. 
Hence we may represent it by the judgment " A is not B." The 
maxims numej'o diversa and arte diversa represent respectively the 
mathematical and the generic differences of comparison. I have taken 
the term unity to represent mathematical identity, and similarity that of 
generic identity, while plurality represents that of mathematical differ- 
ences, and diversity that of generic difference. It is similarity and dif- 
ference, however, that possess the largest share of the functions involved 
in the vinification of " phenomena " in general, even though the ap- 
plication of the others are the primary condition of determining the 
data from which we start in the use of the latter. But apart from 
this the distinctions were necessary, partly for the purpose of recog- 
nizing the twofold uses of the terms " identity " and "difference," 
and partly for the purpose of showing later the separate functions 
which the distinct meanings have in the problem of "knowledge." 
In the intensive judgment it is possible to say that we have a com- 
bination of the unitv and diversity, numero eadem and arte di- 
versa., in the affirmative judgment, and the combination of plu- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 129 

rality and diversity, 7iumero diversa and arte diversa for the nega- 
tive judgment. 

We are now^ prepared to study the relation of the categories, thus 
classified, to the process of " knowledge," in its synthetic forms. But 
in order to do this it will be necessary to recur to the analysis of the 
various processes by which we supposed that "knowledge" was ac- 
cjuired. Taking Consciousness as a generic name for all the mental 
states of which any direct account can be given, we previously divided 
the functions of " knowledge" into those of apprehension or intuition 
and cognition or judgment, the latter representing the synthetic agen- 
cies in the result. Cognition or judgment was divided into perception, 
conperception, apperception, infero-apperception or ratiocination, and 
genero-perception or generalization. It remains to show the relation 
of the categories to these various processes and what the results are. 
Some preliminary definition and explanation will be necessary at this 
point. 

I have above indicated that judgments are of the intensive and 
extensive types. This division, however, defines them in respect of 
their content or meaning. It does not indicate the processes by which 
they are formed. Besides it was also remarked that the conceptions, 
forming the contents or matter of judgment represent the result of 
cognition and as they may represent a synthesis of qualities or only a 
simple quality, it is necessary to carry somewhat further the analysis 
of judgment, in so far as the term stands for a process. The 
divisions of cognition into the several types of perception, con- 
perception, etc., represent this analysis, as they indicate different 
applications of the various categories either singly or in combination, 
in the formation of conceptions and judgments. I have also indicated 
that the problem of " knowledge " begins with the formation of con- 
ceptions which serve as elements of judgments, and that the process of 
forming conceptions is one of judgment as an action. Hence it is 
necessary to take account of the fact that conceptions may involve a 
question as to how the synthesis of qualities can take place for which 
a term may stand. For example, " tree," " apple," " man " are terms 
which represent a group of properties and the question is how w^e 
came to group them so. The answer to this and various coincidental 
questions will be found in a presentation of the several cognitive 
processes. 

The general process of cognition is best explained by comparison 
with intuition or apprehension. This latter process wx have shown to 
be concerned with the primary data of " experience," the simple " facts 

9 



130 THE PIWBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of consciousness" or "phenomena," whether conceived as such or not. 
The moment that any " experience" is conceived as a '• phenomenon," 
quality, projDerty, attribute, event, etc., it is thought of as something 
related to something else, either as a whole of which it is a part or as 
a fact dependent upon another. But before any such conception of a 
fact arises it is only a fact, isolated as it were. I do not mean to say 
that there is a remembered time in consciousness when we have only 
apprehended "facts" not related in any way. Nor would I afRrm on 
the other side that they are always conceived as related. Whether 
cognition is as old as apprehension and inseparable from it I need not 
decide. I have here distinguished between elements in " knowledge" 
which may be considered either as abstractions or as independent proc- 
esses. I merely find that we can abstract the antecedent of a fact and 
concentrate the mind upon the bare fact and describe it as if alone, an 
isolated element of consciousness, and this non-synthetized fact T speak 
of as an intuition or pi-esentation which is a datum for the application 
of other functions of consciousness than the merely apprehending 
function. Taking the presentation of a color, a sound, a taste, a pain, 
or any individual fact regarded as an event in the external world, as 
something which arrests attention and becomes an object of conscious- 
ness as a fact whose explanation is required, if it is conceived as 
implying more than itself, we have a situation which defines the limits 
of apprehension and creates the demand for the process which asserts 
more than the given fact. This process I call Cognition. By it I 
mean the application of a category to a fact or '•'' phenomenon" the 
assertion of the implicate which the conception of the fact or "phe- 
nomenon" as relative demands. This application of a category is the 
act of synthesis and will be adequately explained in the various types 
of cognition. But as a general process it is an interpreting' act, the 
act by which the implication or meaning of a fact is determined. As 
this meaning or implication may be various there wall be correspond- 
ingly various types of the process. 

A further statement of an explanatory character must be made in 
regard to the terms w^hich have been employed to denominate the 
several forms of cognition. I intend to give a specific meaning to each of 
the subdivisions of the general process. This ^vill be in one or two cases 
a new and narrower import than the current use of the same term has. 
Tne others are somewhat new terms and will present no difliculties 
after the definition. The most important one requiring precautionary 
remark is "Perception." This Is a very common term and has both an 
indefinite and a philosophically specific use. But even in philosophic 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 131 

parlance it is variously employed to represent processes which I pro- 
pose here to carefully distinguish. For instance, we indifferently 
speak of the " perception of a sound," the " perception of a tree," and 
the " perception of a truth," etc. The content of the mental act in 
each of these cases is so different that we have to consider the process 
as different in so far as difference of content justifies such a distinction. 
Such an act as a " perception of a sound " I have defined as an appre- 
hension and not as a synthetic act. The " perception of a tree " is 
certainly synthetic in some sense of the term, and therefore involves 
either cognition or the combination of either apprehension or cognition 
.and inference. Of this later. In any event the synthesis expressed 
by the concept "tree" involves more than simple apprehension as I 
have considered it, and so involves judgment of some kind. The 
" perception of a truth" is undoubtedly a judgment and involves syn- 
thetic elements more abstract than " tree." The term is therefore 
equivocal, and in a proper analysis of the problem of "knowledge" 
this ambiguity must be recognized and eliminated. I shall conse- 
quently use the term in a much more restricted sense than is usual, 
except when I put it between quotation marks when I shall recognize 
its general import. When not so indicated I shall give it the technical 
meaning in my definition of It which will be limited to as simple a 
process as the most elementary synthetic act will permit. Conpercep- 
tion had to be coined to express a process more complex than Percep- 
tion. Apperception I may use in a somewhat restricted sense, though 
not more so than some writers. The other terms will explain- them- 
selves in their definition. But in regard to all of them I must premise 
the statement that I do not urge the common acceptance of the terms 
as defined. I adopt them and their technical meaning solely for the 
purposes of the present discussion and for the proper analysis of the 
•elementary problem of " knowledge." After the analysis of the prob- 
lem has been recognized as correct, this being helped by the concen- 
tration of attention upon technical terms, I do not care what becomes 
of the technical uses of the terms. They are here meant only to over- 
come the influence which association and habit have over all of us 
when using a term instead of the concept represented by its definition 
and illustration. When that end has been accomplished I may safely 
rely upon any system of circumlocution to effect the same object, and 
the ordinary usage can remain as it is, with the understanding that it 
must be subjected to the proper analysis when dealing with epistemo- 
logical and metaphysical questions. I would of course prefer to see a 
term used in its technical sense and remain consistent with its adopted 



13^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

definition when dealing with philosophic problems, but it ma)- be too 
much to expect that traditionally fixed conceptions can be easily sup- 
planted by the necessities of an analysis and it may not be required for 
any purposes but easy and briefly expressed distinctions. The use of 
a technical or technically defined term always helps to fix the concept 
which its definition determines, and if that is once effected so as to aid 
an analysis, we may safely trust to the recognition of the idea to find 
its own expression where brevity is not a duty or a necessity. 

The problem now is to show how intensive and extensive judg- 
ments are formed. The formation of concepts involves the same proc- 
esses, just as the judgments involved in conceptual synthesis may take 
either the intensive or the extensive form, and as propositions have 
been explained to be only more complex conceptions which merelv 
economize language, we have before us the simple synthetic problem 
of the processes involved in Cognition of all types. It will be impor- 
tant to keep in view the fact that I desire to explain the process con- 
sistently with any philosophical theories of the schools. It may be 
necessary to repeat this caution in various places, as the employment 
of certain terms may imply the assumption of a certain philosophic 
and metaphysical doctrine of things as a condition of understanding 
and accepting the analysis and explanation of judgment here adopted. 
But for the present this brief remark is sufficient. 

Perception. 

I shall use this term technically to mean the application of the cat- 
egory of causality or ground to the simplest facts of mental experience 
or the simplest qualities of reality, namely, an apprehension, whether 
of the internal or external type. In other words perception is the 
synthesis of an apprehension and ^vhat is implied by the aetiological 
categories. I do not care whether this causality or reality be treated 
as in Its nature " noumenal " or "phenomenal." That Is indifferent 
to the question of the existence of the synthesis and what the implicate 
is in relation to the facts of apprehension. What I mean by the syn- 
thesis Is that any given " experience," sensation or mental state, prop- 
erty or event, may be seen and Interpreted in the light of an implica- 
tion of something else than itself, and that the primary and fundamental 
thing so posited by consciousness is the cause or ground of the fact 
apprehended, whether It be definite or indefinite. It Involves no con- 
sideration of time and space elements, but onl}- the conception of mean- 
ing In terms of a cause or ground of some kind at least. Whether it 
is legitimate or not is not now the question, but only that it seems to 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 133 

be a natural action of the mind in all stages of its development. Thus 
I have the sensation of a color. I may explain it by referring it to an 
object as its property. The thing to which it is so referred is its cause 
or ground. Or I may seek for its cause in some antecedent fact of a 
*' phenomenal " type and thus posit a transcendent fact to make the ap- 
parently isolated fact intelligible. But I do not have to go to the ex- 
ternal world as a condition of satisfying the astiological categories. I 
may refer the sensation to an internal ground. I interpret the sensa- 
tion as my own, as a " phenomenon " of a subject instead of as a property 
or quality of an object. I do not require to go beyond Solipsism 
for the use and application of the categories. The epistemological 
problem is satisfied with a purely subjective point of view and the ob- 
jective will be only another application of its postulates extending the 
field of their utility. If I refer a fact or event to myself as its cause 
or ground and mean nothing more than the cause of that particular 
fact or event I have satisfied the principle of causality in the case and 
the question of an external cause or reality will be either supererogatory 
or an additional problem. As a fact external reality has always been 
associated in some way or relation with the subjective point of view, 
but it is not necessary to the utilization of aetiological categories as 
these may be satisfied by a subjective causal reference. The discrimina- 
tion between internal and external " reality" may be late. All that I 
am maintaining here is that apprehension is never satisfied with itself, 
and that consciousness tries in some way to find the fact or cause to 
which any given phenomenon or event is related, even if it cannot get 
beyond the simple self as this cause or ground. But in the doctrine of 
"perception" epistemology has always referred to the theory of 
*' reality " and this " reality " has meant the existence of an " external " 
world other than the sensations to be accounted for either as the primary 
question or as the necessary complement of the subjective " reality." 
In either or both of these points of view a subject, or object, or 
subject-object, or object-subject, other than the phenomena or func- 
tions of consciousness, \vas implied, no matter what further investiga- 
tion might show that "other" to be. Now I am using the terra 
"perception" to indicate this implication, except that I do not use it 
to imply that this object is known, in the simple act of perception as 
defined, to have a complexus of attributes, such as is denoted by the 
term "tree," "orange," or "mind." How the idea of a "tree" or 
"orange" can be obtained will be a subject for later consideration. 
Here I limit the term perception, as I intend to use it, to the applica- 
tion of causality or ground to a single and individual datum of appre- 



134 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

hension. I am supposing that I have nothing more to account for 
than a sensation of color and nothing more to associate witli it than 
what the idea of a cause or ground calls for. Whether any sensation 
of sound or taction is related to the sa7ne cause I am not supposed even 
to conjecture or imagine as possible. Of this may I remain ignorant. 
I am to account only for the single phenomenon of color which I con- 
ceive as a phenomenon or event which has somehow or other come 
into existence. That something is implied by it is necessarily involved 
in the initial conception of it as a " phenomenon," event, or related 
fact and the only question is as to what we shall call this implicate. 
We may not name it at the outset. It suffices to recognize that the 
fact implies this something other than the fact to be rendered intelli- 
gible in terms of a cause or ground. The most elementary form of 
this judgment or application of the astiological categories is the imper- 
sonal judgment. For example, "it rains," " it snows," "it is clear- 
ing," " it blows," etc. Here the subject or cause is not specifically 
named. Only the fact of a cause or ground is indefinitely recognized. 
In some respects we might say that the impersonal judgment is only a 
statement of the fact of occurrence and not a stated implication of 
cause. This is true enough in so far as the explicit recognition of the 
cause or ground in kind is concerned, but when we examine carefully 
into the significance of the " it" in the statement, which is not the ex- 
pletive it, the idea of a cause or ground is there, but is so indefinite 
that only the fact of occurrence is most apparent. But aside from the 
question of the real interpretation of the impersonal judgment, all that 
I wish to contend for at present is that it is the best form of statement 
for illustrating what is meant by the elementary judgment of percep- 
tion as its function is here conceived. This distinguishes it very clearly 
from such statements as " the clouds rain," " the weather is clearing," 
and " the wind blows," where the subject, real or imaginary, is spe- 
cifically named and conceived, representing a more mature stage of 
reflection. The only cause ho'vx^ever, which this simple perception is 
supposed to determine or posit is the single implicate warranted by the 
conception of the individual apprehension as a related fact, a "phe- 
nomenon" or event not explicable by itself. 

The legitimacy of this process may be questioned by saying that all 
of our " knowledge " is limited to " phenomena " ; that we " know " 
naught beyond " phenomena." My reply to this would be that, so far 
as I am at present concerned, and so far as my definition and concep- 
tion of "reality" and causality are concerned, we may limit " knowl- 
edge" as we please. I do not care whether phenomenalism or nou- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 135 

menalism, or both or neither is true. Whether the cause shall be a 
noumenon different absolutely in kind from all phenomena which it is 
supposed to explain, or whether it is simply another '• phenomenon" 
like or different from the one in view, does not affect the general con- 
ception of the process. I have admitted "empirical "causality or 
reality in my very classification of the categories. What I am con- 
tending for is that the application of a category of causality or ground, 
whether we think of it as " noumenal " or " phenomenal," whether 
we think of it as a " thing in itself " or as mere antecedent fact, is the 
same in its implication when trying to explain a given fact of " ex- 
perience." The recognition of the individual phenomenon of appre- 
hension is simply the occasion and justification of the search for some- 
thing other than itself to account for it. We may divide our opinions 
as to what we shall call this " other than itself," but not in regard to 
the question whether it is another fact than the one in consideration. 
One school will insist upon denominating it a "noumenon" or non- 
phenomenal reality, and mean to assert or imply that it is wholly un- 
like " phenomena " in its nature. The other will insist upon main- 
taining that it must be a " phenomenon," whether this be the same or 
different in kind from that of which it is supposed to be the antecedent 
or cause. But this " phenomenal" interpretation of the case does not 
alter the problem. In both views xve tratzscend the fact to be ex- 
plained^ whether v\^e choose to call the transcendent thing a " phe- 
nomenon " or " noumenon," a " knowable " or " unknowable" real- 
ity. The " empiricist " in his reduction of causality to antecedent and 
in his application of it to any concrete case of present event transcends 
this event or " phenomenon " when he seeks the cause, condition, or an- 
tecedent to explain his present fact quite as much as does the anti- 
phenomenalist in his resort to non-phenomenal facts or postulates. 
The " empiricist " may not transcend all phenomena. I am not here 
asserting that he does. Of that in its place. But he does transcend 
the phenomenon in question, and whether the transcendent, or in Pro- 
fessor Ladd's phrase, trans-svibjective datum or sv:ppositum, is other 
than a " phenomenon " of any kind remains still to be decided by 
further inquiry. He always admits the right and duty to so transcend 
it for the explanation, as no event explains itself unless science and 
philosophy mean to commit suicide. On any theory we must seek the 
cause, ground, or antecedent in something that transcends the fact to 
be explained or made intelligible. The question here is not what we 
shall call this transcendent fact, but whether all intellectual synthesis of 
the explanatory and interpretative sort does not actuallv so transcend 



136 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the given " experience" in its operations aiming at satisfying the mind. 
Hence I mean to construct the theory of perception so as to consist 
with either view of our " knowledge" wlaethcr it be limited to " phe- 
nomena " or extended to " noumena." 

Perception, therefore, as I mean to conceive and define it for the 
purpose of indicating the primary and most elementarv act of intel- 
lection, simply and only means that an individual apprehension has no 
interest for consciousness if we try only to consider it bv itself. It gets 
what interest and meaning it has from the mind's seeing it in the light 
of a cause or ground or antecedent which is supposed in some way to 
determine its existence or to support it as a dependent fact. All that 
association can do is to recall some occasion, and with it the coex- 
istent or antecedent fact that was found in its connection, and assume 
that this circumstance was its cause. The idea of cause or ground, 
condition or necessary nexus, comes into the case in some way to make 
the fact intelligible and to prevent the mind from feeling the constraint 
to treat the fact as spontaneous or inexplicable. Before association 
arises and after it arises the possibility of viewing the " experience" 
in isolation from a definite environment shows where the mind looks 
for explication, especially when there is no past association to suggest 
the " empirical" synthesis which that act of association indicates, and 
this source to which it looks is something other than the event itself, 
leaving it open to decide by any other process we please whether this 
" other than itself" is " phenomenal " or non-phenomenal. The main 
point is to conceive the simplest act of judgment as the application of 
an aetiological category to an individual apprehension, which we can 
isolate at least by abstraction for the sake of discovering why we do 
not rest content with the mere present fact of consciousness. 

Just when this act first occurs in the life of consciousness it may 
not be possible to say. I would even admit that it may not in all or 
any cases often occur in its simple form as defined any more than that 
simple sensations occur as defined by the philosopher. But if it does 
occur historically in this way, it is perhaps very early in the life of the 
individual. Later in the mature consciousness it has to be the result 
of deliberate experiment with abstraction of concomitant elements, so 
that it has to be determined for the philosopher bv the result of analy- 
sis rather than by direct memory of consciousness. We have to find 
its nature in the same wa}' that we find the nature of sensation ^vhich 
we never remember apart from the complex acts of consciousness that 
constitute the adult experience. Nor is it necessary to find the act in 
the early historv of the individual in order to maintain that it is prim- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 137 

ary and elementary, any more than it is necessary to find a sensation 
without associates. It is not the historical evolution of consciousness 
or the gradual superposition of additional elements upon the earliest 
that is here the problem in order to explain the synthesis, but the 
question of discovering the elements of a complex process as observed 
in mature experience. The study of babies is no help in this problem 
and the whole doctrine of evolution is irrelevant to it. There is no 
way of telling what a baby or a dog thinks but to find first what the 
intelligent man thinks, as a condition of making infant and animal ex- 
perience intelligible. Hence I do not find myself explicitly obliged to 
find the simple act of perception as defined historically isolated in the 
life of every individual, in order to justify the appeal to it. I merely 
find that I have to assume it or actually discover it as the final element 
in the analysis of the complex data which I find in the mature mind. 
We proceed here just as we do in the isolation of any function of mind. 
We find variations of complexity in adult experience that discover the 
variant in it which by that very fact is proved not to be a necessary 
element of every consciousness. By abstraction of the various ele- 
ments of the complex I find that any one of them might take place in 
isolation which I could call a simple perception. Thus suppose I see 
a color and have a certain taste at the same time and think of an orange, 
and again see a color and feel a certain tactile sensation and think 
again of an orange, or again have a certain taste and a certain tactile 
sensation at the same time and think of an orange. I discover in the 
case that the synthesis of any two of the experiences is not necessary. 
Their connection with each other is contingent, and the order of my 
experience shows clearly enough that I cannot treat any one of them 
as the cause of the other. Consequently I consider them individual 
elements of a whole any one of which might occur in isolation, and 
in fact I can test this possibility by actual experiment when I please, 
and the idea of cause or ground appears in consciousness as inevitably 
as if their synthesis were present. All that I have to do in the presence 
of the complex data of any given consciousness, which I recognize as 
complex, is to ask what I would think if only one of the quali- 
ties were presented to the mind instead of the totality and I should 
find myself predicating a cause or ground quite as readily and confi- 
dently as I do the singleness or vmity of this cause or ground for the 
synthesis of qualities. It is probable, therefore, that perception as I 
have defined it here is an actual and early experience in the mind's 
life and only lacks the maturity of self-consciousness and reflection to 
remember it as a fact. Aside from the question whether it is chrono- 



13S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

logically an elementary act, it is both logically and josychologically 
the most elementary act of judgment inasmuch as it contains in the 
synthesis fewer of the elements that constitute mature consciousness 
and that do and must appear as variants in it. The illustration above 
given shows this to be a fact. The simplest act, therefore, of judg- 
ment is the reference of any fact or event to a cause, and this I have 
decided to call perception. We may not at first separate the cause or 
ground from the effect or attribute in space or time. We may do 
nothing more than think that there is some reason for the occurrence 
of the fact or " phenomenon." In the earliest stages of consciousness 
the experience may not assume any division of aspects or parts. But 
what occurs in that stage is not a matter which any one can historically 
determine. All that w^e can say is that, if at any time in the history of 
the mind no distinction of cause and effect, of ground and attribute 
takes place, the fact of experience can neither be a " phenomenon" 
nor anything else of a relative sort to consciousness. We would not 
think of it as a "color," "sound," "taste," or "odor," as these 
facts are understood in mature consciousness where they are conceived 
as events or changes involving an implied something else connected 
with them, even if w'e can neither name it nor conceive it in terms 
similar to the facts pi'esented. We could only take them as inex- 
plicable facts having no implications and no characteristics suggesting 
relations of any kind. It is the moment when I conceive a fact as an 
event or phenomenon that the causal ground is implied. The percep- 
tion which I am defining and illustrating is the judgment that arises 
when the mind decides to view any or all events as such, as something 
beginning in time or place and not of themselves explicable as having 
an independent existence. We may not definitely think or name the 
cause or ground. We may not say "substance," or "matter," or 
" soul," or other general reality, and much less " brain," or " tree," 
or " flower." The judgment need be nothing more than " some- 
thing." This indefinite implicate suffices to exemplify the conception 
of elementary synthesis or explanation, and later multiplied " experi- 
ences " will induce other elements into the more complex syntheses. 
Later " experiences " will also differentiate this " something " into the 
particular causes or grounds of ordinary language and thought. Finally 
by comparison and the application of other categories the various in- 
dividual implicates of simple perception will become systematically 
classified, so that "substance" will stand at their head and singular 
terms at the foot of the series. The first step, however is the generic 
judgment of a reality other than the fact to be accounted for and this 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 139 

judgment is the primary one, not involving any space or time as- 
sumptions whatever as conditions of either its meaning or formation. 
Space and time may be characteristics of each individual apprehension, 
but in perception as here conceived this space and time are not condi- 
tions of the judgment which is formed on the occasion of the " ex- 
perience." 

The object of perception, percept as I shall call it to distinguish 
it from concept, is not a complexus of attributes, such as the concept 
"tree" or " horse." If any such " reality " actually existed alone it 
would be Herbart's Real, a thing with but one attribute or property, 
or an atom like that of some physicists who insist that a true atom can 
have but one quality, and that if a number of attributes are discovered 
to belong to the same subject the fact is evidence that we have not 
found the true atom, and that the supposed instance is a compound 
such as we know water, niti'ic acid, etc., to be, and so is resolvable 
into simpler elements which might prove to be the true atoms. 
Whether such things exist or not I am not concerned to affirm or 
deny. I am only choosing an actual mode of thought to illustrate the 
limits of the process which I have defined as perception and which, if 
no other process of " knowledge" were possible, would never give us 
anything but this simple unanalyzable " reality" for an object. What- 
ever the actual nature of real objects, perception is the evidence of but 
a ground or cause for a single apprehension unassociated with another, 
and if we ever discover that the same cause or ground also has other 
properties or functions than that which excites a given sensation we 
have to determine the fact by other conditions than those which I have 
been considering. 

CONPERCEPTION. 

I have distinguished percepts from concepts, the former represent- 
ing the object of a single apprehension, an object that may be nothing 
more than the idea of an indefinite cause or ground, and which but for 
other considerations might result in the conception of as many distinct 
worlds or realities as there are avenues of apprehension. Concept 
stands for either a synthesis of qualities or a synthesis of objects, the 
former, as we have seen above, being called a singular, and the latter 
a general concept. But tlie point here to be noticed is the fact that 
conce pt, simply as a term, means synthesis of some kind which 
unifies the^appTTcation of the categories and represents the first step in 
the process of unifying the world or cosmos. It is the process of con- 
perception that begins this movement and lies at the basis of the forma- 
tion of singula?' concepts. General concepts are the result of later 



140 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and additional processes, the order of development being, in so far as 
simplicity and complexity are concerned, percepts, singular concepts, 
and general concepts. Of this again. 

Perception is a simple process. Conperception, however, involves 
more elements and conditions than perception. Its first characteristic 
is that it must represent the apj^lication of causality or ground to two 
or more, or any conceivable number of smzultaneozis and identico- 
local apprehensions. That is, it must represent two or more simul- 
taneous perceptions. But it is more than the mere application of an 
aetiological category, which might give as many realities sepai'ate from 
each other as there are perceptions involved. It is the additional ele- 
ments that determine its value. Hence as the second important element 
and condition conperception includes space and time relations. That 
is, space and time determine the form of the result which the judgment 
effects. If the apprehensions are incited from the same point in space 
and occur at the same time for both or more "experiences," the judg- 
ment, under the category of causality or ground, represents this object 
as the same for all of them, namely, as a single subject or thing, 
miviero eadem., whatever else it may be. The object will thus be 
complex in respect of its qualities or functional activities, nuniero 
diversa^ but simple in respect to its space and time relations, miinero 
eadem. If the two or more different apprehensions occur in different 
points of space, at the same time, or in different moments of time at the 
same point of space, the judgment of causality, cetei'is paribus, will 
represent as many different objects or subjects of attributes, or things 
as the source of sensations, objects that are different in kind, nuviero 
diversa, whatever else they may be. It will be noticed that the onto- 
logical categories are here involved in the product of conperception, 
but only in so far as unity and pluralitv are concerned. Similarity and 
diversity of kind are not concerned. I need not more than refer to this 
fact as an indication of having remarked it. The most important point 
to note now is the place assigned to space and time as factors affecting 
the form which the application of causality or ground takes. It refers 
the ground of the qualities represented in consciousness to single or 
plural objects according to the conditions indicated above. In the first 
and properly conperceptive act, when the space and time are the same 
for the perceptions, we have the same subject or cause for the t^vo or 
more attributes. We have a conpercept, as ^ve mav call it, in distinc- 
tion from percept, and hence a singular concept like "Plato," "Bu- 
cephalus," "Charter Oak," etc. In the second form, when the space 
and time relations involve the plurality of one of them, we have a 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. I41 

plurality of objects or things, whether as percepts or conpercepts, the 
one or the other being determined by the simplicity or degree of com- 
plexity involved in the mental acts at the time. If no tv^o apprehensions 
occur at the same point of space and in the same moment of time, that 
is, simultaneously, there will be no conperception at all, but only plural 
perceptions not involving any conception of unity in cause or ground. 
If two or more apprehensions occur under conperceptive conditions for 
two of the senses and two or more under conperceptive conditions for 
the other senses there will be two distinct conperceptions, representing 
different' unities for cause or ground and hence a plurality of objects, 
but with each of them representing the synthetic act of conperception. 
Let me illustrate the process and results. 

Let me suppose that I have an orange on my table. For the pur- 
poses of my illustration, how^ever, I am not assuming that the object is 
yet known to be an orange or even to be known as anything. I merely 
assume a case of complex attributes and that I do not yet know the 
fact. I first have the sensation or apprehension of color. This will 
give rise to a perception and nothing more. Suppose also that I touch 
the object without seeing it or having the sensation of color. I would 
again have nothing but a perception when interpreting the meaning of 
the " experience." But suppose that I have simultaneously the appro- 
priate sensations of color and touch and they represent the same point 
or space locality, why should I refer the cause or ground of the events 
to the same object? Why not suppose that I am seeing one thing and 
touching another, seeing a house across the street and touching the 
orange before me? The answer to this question is simple. If I have 
reason to believe, or actually see that the visual apprehension has its 
causal source at the same point of space as the tactual, both being sim- 
ultaneous by hypothesis, I simply use the principle of mathematical 
identity or unity, in other words act according to the Law of Parsi- 
mony, in my causal judgment and refer the plural qualities to the same 
subject or object. The object before me becomes a synthesis of prop- 
erties, a single whole and with frequent " experience" means this, so 
that on the apprehension of one of them I may anticipate the possible 
apprehension of another. It is in this way that I ultimately derive the 
basis for all conceptions of individual wholes or syntheses of qualities. 
This is the judgment of conperception. On the other hand, if I have 
a sensation of color and at the same time one of touch, when I have 
reason to believe that the two do not originate from the same point of 
space, I must refer them to different realities. Ceteris paribus ^ 
it will be the same if the apprehension issue from the same point of 



14.2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

space but occur at different moments of time without any evidence that 
the cause of the first sensation has remained at the same point of space 
in the meantime. The real conperceptive synthesis can take place 
only in the unity of time and space with the application of the aetio- 
logical categories, and we begin by this process the unification of 
"experience" and rely upon it in all later " knowledge " to test the 
accuracy and legitimacy of the anticipative judgments of infero-apper- 
ception and genero-perception. 

It is not important to discuss the origin or nature of space appre- 
hension in this problem, as I am not concerned wnth any theory of 
either nativism or empiricism in the matter of genesis, or of subjectiv- 
ity or objectivity in nature. Whatever its genesis, or nature, its use in 
conperception is the same. It is probable that visual space, however 
derived, is the basis for the assumption of identity and difference in 
the conditions affecting conperception. For instance, in the illustra- 
tion of the orange, I can ascertain whether the tactual sensation orig- 
inates from the same point in space as the visual by noting that the 
point of fixation for seeing the color coincides w4th the point of tactual 
contact as visually determined in the ojDtical field. Otherwise I should 
either have no evidence of spatial coincidence or have to resort to 
other means for determining it. The sense of vision suffices, with the 
adjustment of touch to its field, to determine the coincidence, and that 
is all that is required to have the process of synthesis effected at any 
time, whether the ideas of space and time be "a priori " or " em- 
pirical." 

It will be interesting to remark at this stage of the problem that we 
have data for some representation of consequences. Perception, as 
already remarked, does not involve any conception of a unified universe. 
It is quite consistent with a chaos. It does not require for its action 
or satisfaction the existence of any relations other than a cause, nor any 
reciprocity or interaction between various causes or objects whose ex- 
istence it assumes or postulates, no matter how such things may be 
actually related. It simply goes beyond the individual " phenomena " 
of apprehension for their causes or grounds and does not determine 
whether they are interrelated or not, or whether there is anv common 
basis for a synthesis of different qualities. So far as perception is 
concerned the world may not be an ordered one at all, but only a chaos. 
But conperception begins to suggest some sort of unity, even if it is 
only limited to a synthesis of qualities in a single subject and leaves all 
such synthetic objects, If they are plural, as unrelated as percejotion 
might leave them. When it gives a unity of reality for a multiple of 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 143 

qualities it simplifies, to that extent, the possibilities of the world of 
" knowledge." It is therefore the first step in the unification of 
" knowledge" which has to be carried further by additional processes 
to complete the work. 

Apperception. 

What I have called apperception introduces still greater complica- 
tions into the synthesis of " knowledge," in that it is superposed upon 
the two previous processes, which are at the basis of intensive judgments, 
as apperception is at the basis of extensive judgments. The term is not 
new, nor is the import which I give to it wholly new. It has not had the 
same meaning, however, in all systems of philosophy. It had one 
meaning in Kant, another in Leibnitz, and still another in Wundt and 
others. Without taking the trouble to decide whether any or all of 
them are correct, or to decide whether the use of it in the present work 
is identical with any of them, I shall simply define it as having to do 
■with the assimilation and differentiation of " experience," or the com- 
prehension of specific relations of likeness and differences, if relations ) 
these can be called. As here conceived it alw ays involves comparison^ 
qiid_ia-the_main step in what is usually conceived to be intelligibility. 
But I shall use the term so as to include in this general description of 
its significance a more specific recognition of the principle which en- 
ables it to have the function which I assign to it as a mental act, 
namely, that it involves the application of a category and is a form of 
judgment. This category is what I have defined as the ontological 
principle, the use of the ideas of identity or difference to determine the 
"nature" of things. A peculiar characteristic of it is that it may be 
applied without any accompaniment of perception and conperception, 
or ^etiological principles, or it maybe superposed upon the results of 
those processes and thus be subordinate to them in the determination 
of the total meaning of things. Of this again. 

I have said that the fundamental characteristic of apperception is 
that it involves comparison. There must be at least two objects of con- 
sciousness that its action may be applied. These objects may be mere 
" phenomenal experiences," unref erred apprehensions, if we like to 
limit " knowledge" to such facts, or they may be percepts and conper- 
cepts, if we wish to include such within the possibilities of " knowl- 
edge " conceived as more than " phenomenal" syntheses. It should 
be remembered, however, that I have endeavored to interpret percep- 
tion and conperception in a way that does not absolutely require us to 
transcend all "phenomena" in our cognitions, though the language 



144 ^'^^^ PROBLEMS OF PJJ ILOSOPJIY. 

employed is intended also to be consistent with such transcendency in 
the application of ^etiological categories. But we do not require to 
consider the possibly double import of ontological methods as defined, 
as there is no necessity for anything more than a comparison and dis- 
tinction of " phenomena" to satisfy the use of an ontological principle. 
Consequently I may define apperception consistently with any theory 
of the ultimate nature of "knowledge" and so regard it as the appli. 
cation of the categories of identity and difference to facts, whether 
" noumenal " or "phenomenal," for the determination of their 
"nature" in terms of their likenesses and differences. As already re- 
marked it constitutes the nature of extensive judgments which illustrate 
its action, and first represents its functions in the formation oi general 
concepts. Memory and association maybe connected with the process 
in supplying data for the application of the categories, but these are 
not absolutely necessary. All that they do is to enable the mind to 
establish some sort of continuity or discontinuity with the past, while 
the comparison involving identity or difference between objects of con- 
sciousness may be effected entirely within the limits of the present 
contents of consciousness, so that memory and association only increase 
the range of "phenomena" to which its categories are applicable. 

It is not the fact that two or more objects are before consciousness 
that constitutes an act of apperception, but the fact that they are ob- 
served to be two or more and their similarity or difference remarked. 
The apperception does not take place until the plurality and similarity 
or diversity are observed. The process can apply to a single object 
of consciousness only when a diversity of qualities is observed in 
connection with the conperception of them in the same subject. In 
all other cases the category of plurality is present and individual objects 
are distinguished at least mathematically and may be either identified 
or distinguished generically. This is probably self-evident from the 
analysis made. But it should be remarked for the sake of complete- 
ness of statement. The principles which determine plurality materi- 
ally are time and space which I have recognized as the principles of 
both continuitv and individuation. Sameness of time and space are the 
determinants of mathematical identity or absolute unity. Differences 
of time and space are the determinants of plurality or separate indi- 
vidualities, that is, mathematically distinct at least, and usually separate 
in all senses affecting independence of existence and center of refer- 
ence. Thus two objects of consciousness mav be so absolutely alike 
as to be indistinguishable in all but their individuality of space or time 
existence, that is, so much alike that, if not seen simultaneouslv they 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 145 

might be assumed to be one and the same thing. But the mere fact 
of differences of time or space is sufficient to determine the pluraHty 
which makes comparison and distinction as individual wholes possible, 
provided that the conditions assure us of the plurality in cases where 
the objects are not simultaneously before consciousness. The first act 
will be the observation of similarity or difference between plural ob- 
jects. The next will be the act of determining the genus and species 
in the case, and finally w^hen a species or genus has been formed the 
apperceptions will take the form of extensive judgments where simi- 
larity wall determine the affirmative and diversity the negative judg- 
ments. 

The importance of the process, however, is, as has been briefly indi- 
cated, that we may or may not accept the £Etiological categories in the 
noumenal sense of transphenomenal reality when considering the act of 
apperception. We may be satisfied with "phenomenal" facts and 
their similarity and diversity, and so treat the problem of " knowledge " 
as solved, for all practical purposes at least, when facts have been sys- 
tematized and the uniformities of events observed. This is to say that 
the ontological categories can be applied to classify facts without cau- 
sally or Eetiologically explaining them, and can serve as the principle 
of classification and systematization where things are not wholly chaotic 
or irreducible to an order of likeness in kind. Universal differences 
would leave us without any use for the principle of identity, while the 
existing system of facts offers data for what are called similarity and 
difference which are the ontological categories. 

Though we may actually apply the ontological categories to phe- 
nomena without using the setiological a little observation will show 
that interpretation and explanation are not complete until the latter are 
applied. There are two facts which indicate this. Firstly, all that 
the principles of identity and difference can accomplish is the reduction 
to classes or exclusion from them. Classification only indicates that a 
given fact belongs to a genus already known. When a new fact comes 
before consciousness the mind may not at first know what to do with 
it, and after investigation finds that it belongs to a known genus. This 
is the affirmation of its inclusion in that genus, and hence the affirmative 
judgment of extension. If excluded the judgment is negative. The 
fact is supposed to be made intelligible by thus classifying it, less so in 
the negative than in the affirmative judgment, as its reduction to the 
known remains still to be affected. But we are supposed to " know " 
a thing when we can classify it. The fact is, however, that we do not 
" know " it in any sense that it is fully explained when it is thus classi- 



146 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

fied, but \vc only discover that it l^elungs to the class of supposedly 
" known" or explained facts. This means that the principle of iden- 
tity only discovers that a new fact has the same explanation as one 
previously '' known," and not that the fact is ultimately explained. 
Secondly, extensive judgments, though they may classify facts without 
special reference to their imjolications, nevertheless do not release the 
mind from the habit or necessity of thinking of them as related aetio- 
logically in some way. If in forming such judgments, we assume 
that the facts are '-phenomena," events, attributes, or properties, we 
have a conception of them which postulates with it the idea of cause 
or ground. Hence, whether the terms of such judgments are the 
names of events or qualities, or of substantive realities, the idea of 
setiological principles is subsumed in the case. This is quite apparent 
even in the extensive judgment when composed of substantive terms. 
Yox example, " Men are vertebrates," " Horses are animals," " Stones 
are matter," etc. Here we have concepts and judgment which are easily 
reducible to the intensive form to express practicallv the same facts as 
the extensive. "Men," " vertebrates," " horses," etc., are conceived 
as subjects of attributes, the cause or grounds of a given group of 
qualities, so that the cetiological postulates are implicated in even the 
extensive judgments, and serve as the ultimate means of making facts 
" intelligible." They are the point where explanation stops. All that 
apperception does is to unify explanation, not to produce it. If we do 
not "understand " the predicate of an extensive judgment the subject 
w^ill not be " understood." The value of the judgment is that it 
reduces the new to the familiar, to the presumably " intelligible," to 
what is already " known," and hence serves especiallv the important 
object of the communication of " knowledge," not the primary deter- 
mination of it in its explanatory aspects. The cetiological categories 
take the precedence in this function. The ontological principles enable 
us to assign a simpler order of things than the setiological. They give 
evidence of a unified system of facts in terms of similaritv and diversity 
as well as unitv and pluralitv, and so reduce the conditions of a chaos 
to a minimum. 

Ratiocination. 

Ratiocination is the general process of inference. I intend that 
it shall comprehend the fields of both induction and deduction. This 
fact explains the scope and range of the term as employed, and as I do 
not in any w^ay limit or extend the accepted usage of the term further 
definition of it is not imperative. What the process is, therefore, is 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 147 

sufficiently well known not to require definition and explanation or il- 
lustration at length. The important fact for consideration here is the 
reason for classifying the process under the general head of judgment 
or cognition. It has been usual to treat the process as if it were an 
unique one and different in nature from that of judgment. This may 
not always or ever be intentional, but the manner of treatment as well 
as the material involved is calculated at least to suggest the general 
difference between judgment and reasoning. But I think it simplifies 
the problem of " knowledge " to conceive ratiocination as a form of 
judgment. The difference between them is apparent in the relative 
complexities of the syllogism, but it is only apparent. If we simply 
remark the fact that the conclusion of the syllogism is always a judg- 
ment, formed from the major and minor terms, we certainly discover 
that the result is a judgment in matter and we may well ask whether 
the process is anything more. Now if we further observe that the mid- 
dle term represents an application of the principle of identity or differ- 
ence and that the mental act w^hich apprehends the relation involved 
in the connection between the major and minor terms on the basis of 
the middle term is an apperception, w'e can readily see that the whole 
illative process is a judgment in its essential characteristics, and the 
distinction between it and ratiocination Is in the equivocal import of 
the terms, now used to denote a process and again the subject matter 
to which it is applied. Ratiocination is only the well known act in 
more complicated conditions. It has for its matter propositions In- 
stead of mere concepts, though we might well call propositions un- 
named concepts and thus Indicate another evidence that the reasoning 
process is only a judgment or cognition. The reason that it has seemed 
to be different from judgment is that we have gotten into the habit of 
conceiving and defining it by the character of Its subject matter rather 
than the psychological act by which the conclusion is obtained, and as 
the problem of "knowledge" is at present discussed we require to 
think of processes instead of subject matter. 

Though ratiocination is here conceived as apperception It Is im- 
portant to remark that It has a relation to time and space which apper- 
ception does not have. Apperception compares the terms of present 
syntheses or the terms of the past and present. Memory Is necessary 
for the apperception of the present in reference to the past : it Is not 
necessary for the apperceptive synthesis of the present. But reasoning 
may Include judgment as to the future as well as the past. It is there- 
fore or may be prospective In its conceptual synthesis. Mnemonic ap- 
perception is retrospective, ratlocinative apperception may be pros- 



14S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

pective, possibly must be. It applies to data not actually present to 
consciousness, although founded upon the present data. 

Generalization. 
What I have called genero-perception or generalization is simply 
the application of judgment, under ontological categories, to the time 
and space relations of present cognitions, that is perception, conper- 
ceptions and apperceptions. It will not require elaborate explanation 
until we come to testing the validity of "knowledge." I remark it 
here only because it may not be apparent in the definition of ratiocin- 
ation which may be either prospective or retrospective. It is only be- 
cause ratiocination may not explicitly generalize its conclusion that 
the application of the judgment so formed to all time and space is 
concealed. What generalization accomplishes is the explicit recogni- 
tion of universality in judgment, a characteristic which is determined 
by the use of the principle of identity or difference, in fact is but an 
embodiment of it. Present mental states are all that are required for 
perception, conperception, and apperception and their products need 
not represent more than the present facts, even though it is possible to 
bring past "experience" into relations in which these processes may 
be applied. What I did in the treatment of them as processes was to 
use the least number of complications in illustrations of their functions 
and so to limit the elementary factors to the fewest possible, allowing 
the admission of other matter as the wider conditions of " knowledge " 
required. Hence it has been necessary to distinguish the special act 
of universalizing a judgment as an additional act to that of simply 
forming a present synthesis. I would recognize " universalitv " as a 
category were it not that it is nothing more than a special application 
of the ontological principles as defined. 

Objections and Explanations. 
The first objection which presents itself to this analysis of the ele- 
mentary synthetic processes in " knowledge" is that there are no such 
simple processes in normal adult experience as perception and conper- 
ception, as I have defined and applied them. I would be told, by 
some at least, that the actual mode of acquiring " knowledge " is 
either quite different from what I have indicated or that it is much 
more complex. My reply to this objection would be that I am not 
pretending to assert that all my mental habits and acts represent these 
functions in their simplicity in normal experience. I quite fully agree 
that my normal mental action in the majority of m-\- experiences may 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 149 

represent very much more complex conditions than are found in the 
individual acts defined. But the critic must remember that I may ask 
the question on this admission, whether these more complex processes 
o-ive any " knowledgeJ" It is one thing to use the term " knowledge " 
to represent the acquisition of " ideas," suppositions, possible objects 
of experience, and another to obtain facts with a certitude and intelli- 
gibility that are usually supposed to be implied in "knowledge." 
What our usual epistemologist forgets is that " knowledge" is an ex- 
tremely equivocal term and that in the looser parlance of philosophic 
discussion it stands for the acquisition of ideas, not their certitude and 
legitimacy or their proof. I am not just now discussing how I get 
*' ideas," nor what the mental processes are by which I form conjectures 
which have to be verified, but after having dealt with the question of 
origin I am trying now to explain the elementary acts by which my 
certain and unified truths are obtained in the last analysis when any 
sceptical question is raised as to their legitimacy. The whole problem 
is first to determine v\^hat you shall mean by "knowledge," and then 
gauge your psychological analysis to suit that definition. I agree 
readily enough that if ' ' knowledge " means any thought or idea that 
happens to get into iny head, there are some far more complicated 
processes involved than those which I have indicated as elementary 
and fundamental. Memory and association, conjecture, inductive in- 
ference and deductive reasoning, whether valid or not, often combine 
in my mature experience in suggesting what my mind entertains, but 
we may well ask whether all this is "knowledge." It is such if 
■" knowledge " means only this product. But in all rational philosophi- 
cal discussion " knowledge " niust have either a more definite meaning 
■or a recognition of the separate problems implied in the general and 
abstract conception of the term as it is too often used in philosophy, 
if there is to be any sane investigation of its issues at all. If, for in- 
stance, I assume that " knowledge " implies certitude in regard to the 
object matter of consciousness, I must admit that the majority of my 
mental processes, which are either inductive inferences or associated 
with these, never give it to me at all. But if "knowledge" is only 
" ideas," " possibilities of experience," anything might give it to me, 
association, unverified inference, imagination, or even dreams. But I 
am not concerned with any such conception of " knowledge." These 
are processes which require verification and on that account take a 
subordinate place to those which we are in the habit of regarding as 
more elementary and more trustworthy. Hence when we wish to find 
what it is in the complex processes of normal experience that de- 



150 THE PROBLEMS OF PlIILOSOrilY. 

termines the certification and unification demanded in the term " knowl- 
edge," we simjjly eliminate from consideration the inferential and as- 
sociational factors and take those which are uneliminable and which 
characterize the constitutional nature of consciousness as a source of 
any certitude at all, and regard them as the real agencies in the result. 
I cannot easily pick out a perception or conperception in ordinary ex- 
perience without finding other processes associated or implicated in 
them, so that the total exercise of functions in normal life may contain 
moi-e than the analysis which I have given would seem to indicate. 
But this complexity does not exclude the presence of these functions as 
defined, and when the whole process has been analyzed into its elements 
we shall find all of them there, and the only question will be as to 
which of them delivers and guarantees "knowledge," this depending 
on the original definition of our problem. 

The whole actual process of " knowledge " may be illustrated in 
detail. An object is before me. All that I am immediately aware of 
is a certain yellow color. If it is the first time that I have seen any 
object at all and I have only the apprehension of a color the only thing 
that is possible for judgment is expressed in the limited meaning 
wdiich I have given the term perception. But by the time that the 
period of i-eflection and self-consciousness has arrived so much has al- 
ready been done in the way of maturing the combination of a number 
of processes that it may be impossible for me to wholly isolate such a 
simple process for my imagination. Certainly in mature experience 
I am not likely to escape the influence of memory and association in the 
event of having a sensation of color as imagined. Hence in such an 
illustration at a time when the process has any intelligibility at all the 
apprehension represents an occasion which suggests something besides 
a cause or ground of the color sensation. This, however, depends 
wholly upon the condition that I have in the past had some apprehen- 
sion besides that of vision or color in connection with color. Unless 
this be so anything whatever might be suggested by the present ex- 
perience. But the supposition that any other sensation has been asso- 
ciated with the present one in the past is an admission of a conper- 
ceptive synthesis which is here supposed to be the subject of scepticism^ 
But it is the only condition that any single apprehension afterward 
shall suggest the possible association of another qualit}- than the present 
one apprehended. However, when the apprehension of the yellow 
color does take place alone, after some conperceptive synthesis In the 
past, the process Instigated by memory and association is an antlcipa- 
tive one. It is an inference that some other quality is present in the 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 151 

object though not at the time an object of immediate present apprehen- 
sion. The yellow color may suggest and I may infer that the object 
has a certain taste and a certain internal structure with which past ex- 
perience is familiar. The combination of these qualities in the same 
object is what I have in the past considered as constituting, say, an 
" orange." Instead of depending upon visual experience in the case to 
instigate the suggestion it may be taste to start with and I infer the 
color. Hence in actual experience in adult and mature life what I find 
is a large dependence upon inference and association in connection with 
more or less isolated apprehensions and not a perpetual conperceptive 
synthesis of the qualities which are the object of consciousness at the 
time. That is to say, in normal life I do not all the time find either 
an isolated apprehension, an isolated perception, a perfect and com- 
plete conperception, all in the order in which the analysis above given 
presents them, but I find a process which can be more aptly defined 
and described as one of inj'ero-apprehension, a combination of appre- 
hension and inference. The stream of consciousness is scarcely any- 
thing else. Inference, and inductive inference at that, Is by far the 
most frequent condition of my thought at any moment of the reflective 
or unreflective mental life. But when we come to test whether this 
inferential act is valid or not we have to test its accuracy by the appro- 
priate " experience" or apprehension. If on the apprehension of the 
particular yellow color I infer the taste and internal structure which I 
have in the past associated with that particular color I can verify it only 
by opening the object and tasting it. But I cannot verify this without 
a conperceptive synthesis. I must be convinced that the taste and in- 
ternal structure belong to the same object as the color, and the condi- 
tion of this result is the unity of time and space as above described. 
If this condition is not satisfied I have no evidence whatever that all 
the qualities belong to the same object. Hence some degree of con- 
perception is absolutely necessary to any synthesis at all in " experi- 
ence." It must take place some time in order to make the inference 
to it at any time possible and rational. The synthesis may not always 
be the same. Now color and taste may be associated, and again color 
and tactual qualities, and still again tactual and savory qualities, or 
again all three of them. When once the conviction has been formed 
by various conperceptive syntheses that any number of qualities are 
associated in the object I can infer all of them on the occasion of a 
single apprehension. This then is the usual process of " knowledge." 
It shows infero-apprehension as the normal function of the stream of 
consciousness. But in spite of all, the conperceptive pi^ocess at some 



152 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPIIV. 

past time is absolutely necessary to the production of tliis infero-ap- 
prehension and as necessary to its verification in the future. Xow if 
conperception be thus justified as an elementary condition of " knowl- 
edge," which is defined as synthetic certitude, it is only a question of 
further analysis to determine whether there is any such process as sim- 
ple perception in the definition of it adopted. Now as conperception 
assumes, postulates, cognizes or implicates the sa?ne cause or ground 
for all the qualities simultaneously apprehended, there is no escape 
from the supposition that a single apprehension demands the same 
categorical explanation. " Cause " or " ground " is not another quality. 
Both perception and conperception are on the same plain and are to be 
explained, not one by the other, but both by the same other than them- 
selv^es. Hence perception is but a name for the explanatory judgment 
of the mind on the occasion of a single apprehension and hence for 
one of the double functions involved in an infero-apprehension, which 
has the ratiocinative act of expectation or anticipation of "experi- 
ence" and the explanatory function of reference to cause or ground, as 
well as a retrospective function of memory and association. But the 
perception is there as an element of the totality and must be regarded 
as the simplest form of the cognitive consciousness in the application 
of a category. This has all to be determined by analysis and not by 
an actual memory of the original " experiences " with which " knowl- 
edge " began. The description of the infant consciousness cannot 
be made from memory and whether in self or others has to be deter- 
mined by the analysis of the adult consciousness. 

Accepting, therefore, the supposition that analysis is a legitimate 
method for determining the fundamental and elementary processes of 
"knowledge"! shall merely call attention to the motive which has 
governed it. It was that I wished to show first that judgment w;as the 
one process to which all higher mental action of the intellectual type 
is reducible and secondly that this involves the application of a cat- 
egory constituting the act synthetic. Assuming, then, that judgment 
represents the one general type of mental action beyond the sensory, 
mnemonic and Internal mental states, it may be noted that this is only 
a simplification of Kant's analysis. I have only reduced the processes 
beyond sensibility in his system to this one act of judgment. I think 
it w^as in fact the conception of Kant, but it was not expressly and ex- 
plicitly indicated and was concealed by the vast machinery of distinc- 
tions between the functions of understanding (Verstand) and reason 
( Vernunft) . If I may express the distinction apparently latent in the 
mind of Kant the whole process In his problem would be found in 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 153 

receptivity and activity^ as characterizing the two general functions 
of " knowledge." But as this way of indicating the process is too 
closely associated with the metaphysics of Leibnitz and the mechanical 
philosophy of the anti-Leibnitzians, and as all mental action, sensory 
and intellectual, must in the last analysis be treated as activity^ I think 
intuition and cognition are more suggestive of the conceptions which 
we have to take of the two processes, covering the primary and the 
synthetic functions of consciousness. I have, 'of course, to free the idea 
of " intuition " from many historical associations and limit its import to 
any immediate apprehension of consciousness, but that is only a matter 
of definition, while cognition easily suggests synthesis, so that the re- 
ceptivity and activity of Kant with their metaphysical associations in 
materialism and idealism may be avoided. I am not presenting a 
theory of " knowledge " with the assumption that it decides, without 
specific definition, any metaphysical doctrine, but one that shall be 
true, if true at all, for either the phenomenalist or the transphenome- 
nalist. All questions of the metaphysical nature meaning and implica- 
tions other than phenomena must be settled independently of the syn- 
thetic functions ascribed to them here. I am aiming only to simplify 
the mental acts involved in the ultimate or elementary process of 
" knowledge" and so to show how the evolution of percepts and con- 
cepts and their synthesis in judgment takes place, with the elements or 
contents that constitute them. In effecting this result the question is 
not what my present developed and complex mental states are but what 
their elements are, as determinable by analysis and the elimination of 
the purely associative factors. We may thus show how the mind pro- 
ceeds from the indefinite to the definite, or from the simple to the com- 
plex, in its " knowledge" of the various adjunctive and synthetic ele- 
ments in a present mature state. Hence I have endeavored only to 
indicate that the first and simplest step in synthetic "knowledge" is 
the application of causality or ground in general to the " phenomena" 
of " experience," without any necessary attempt to assign that cause 
or ground definite characteristics other than the one that it assumes to 
explain. This may mean that what we primarily as well as ultimately 
" know " of reality is what it does and nothing more. I have no ob- 
jections to this conclusion and expect to take it up again, but it is no 
part of the system at present to either assume or defend such a con- 
clusion. I am concerned only with the systematic application of the 
categories as explained in the reduction of judgments to intensive and 
extensive types and their regulation by the aetiological and ontological 
categories in the determination of their material contents. This sim- 



154 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

plification of the problem prepares the way for a simpler solution 
of it. 

But in thus conceiving the problem to have been reduced to the 
functions of intensive and extensive judgments it is easy to lose sight 
of an important consideration, because the actual order of thought in 
the expression and statement of its original results seems to indicate 
that the order of genesis is the same as that of statement. But this is 
not the case and it is important to remark it and to keep it in mind. 
In explaining the nature of the intensive judgment we must remember 
that the order of expression is not an indication of the chronological 
order of genesis. The synthetic act of judgment does not imply that 
we "know" the subject first and the predicate afterward and that by 
some hocus pocus process we get them together. The very condition 
of their unity in time and space excludes this, though there are judg- 
ments in which the synthesis is subsequent to the independent "• knowl- 
edge " of the data that serve as subject and predicate when connected. 
But the important fact is that in all primary and elementary " knowl- 
edge," the order of acquisition is predicate and then subject. The 
actual dependence of effect or quality upon cause or ground gives the 
impression that the order of expression is the order of acquisition. 
But the form of logical expression happens to recognize the ordo 
naturce of the relation between subject and predicate while the ordo 
cognitionis is the reverse and represents the order of genesis in 
" knowledge " as predicate first and then the subject which is a reflex 
of the application of a category to the given datum. This is only to 
say that the chronology of nature may be the reverse of the chronolog}'' 
of mind in "knowing" nature, or that the ordo naturce is the 
reverse of the ordo cognitionis. Simply expressed, therefore, we 
have an " experience," a " phenomenon " of consciousness, an ap- 
prehension as the datum from which judgment proceeds. For all that 
the theory of ' ' knowledge " may care or know* there may be a stage or 
period of development in the life of the infant when it exercises no 
function of cognition or judgment as synthetically exercised in mature 
life. But whether this be true or not, there is certainly a point where 
the mind regards a fact as relative, "phenomenal," or in some way 
explicable by something not itself, and from that point on in the life of 
the individual the mind insists on referring this fact to its ground or 
cause. The fact or phenomenon of experience represents the predi- 
cate and the subject is the reflex of the ^etiological category, and hence 
the order of "knowledge" is predicate and then subject. This rela- 
tion of the ordo cosrnitionis to the ordo natzircE will be a matter of 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 155 

consideration again when a further objection to the above analysis of 
the process of "knowledge" is the subject of attention, as it affects 
certain questions which have not been considered. 

We may apply the same observations to the extensive judgment 
with some qualifications. A condition of its formation, when the two 
terms are non-coordinate species apperceived as alike, is that the predi- 
cate should represent an object or class already known and the subject 
then becomes a later object of consciousness both as to fact of its ex- 
istence and its relation to the predicate. This makes the subject known 
last, as in the intensive judgment, though the order of inclusion logi- 
cally is the reverse of the intensive. But in the primary apperceptive 
judgment, involved in the elementary formation of general concepts, the 
two or more objects of consciousness may be simultaneous and the 
similarity or difference between them makes them to appear to be 
contemporaneously " known " with the real or supposed genus of which 
they are coordinate species. But in all apperceptive judgments in- 
volving a comparison with the past, the most natural order is genus first 
and species last, a fact which makes the subject last and the predicate 
first in the order of " knowledge." The possibility, however, of main- 
taining that in all judgments whatever, unless we except the first forma- 
tion of a genus, the subject is " known " later than the predicate is not 
an important one to insist upon in extensive judgments, because of 
their final reduction to the intensive as the primary one in the order of 
" knowledge." This is incontestable in all extensive judgments which 
represent subject and predicate as things or realities having attributes. 
The formation of the very elements of the extensive judgment thus 
involves the primary application of the intensive, making the category 
of causality or ground prior to all others and the ultimate source of 
mental satisfaction in the explanation of facts. The getiological syn- 
thesis thus precedes the ontological in all cases where subject arud pre- 
dicate represent substantive concepts. It is tacitly implied in merely 
attributive concepts, for these conceived as " phenomenal " facts imply 
the astiological categories even when they are not expressed, so that in 
all cases the intensive judgment is prior in its functional importance, 
or at least more fundamental than the extensive, which does not con- 
stitute the whole of the act of " knowledge." In the intensive judgment 
the subject is necessarily posterior to the predicate in " knowledge," and 
whatever real or apparent exceptions to this law appear in certain forms 
of the extensive or apperceptive judgment the intensive represents the 
ultimate process of " knowledge " when it seeks more than the mere 
apprehension and association of facts as phenomena. 



156 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The statements made about the ordo cognitionis in the problem of 
"knowledge" suggest an objection to the analysis of it which the 
treatment of intensive and extensive judgments may assume. I pre- 
viously called attention to a mode of interpreting the relation between 
the subject and predicate in certain apparent intensive judgments 
which seemed to imply an identity of meaning between the two. The 
illustration chosen was the proposition " Snow is white," in which it 
was remarked that, as the order of acquiring my conceptions was that 
of "white" first and "snow" last, it came about that the subject 
in fact had no other meaning than the particular " white" which the 
predicate represented. This meant, practically at least, that the prin- 
ciple of identity might represent the content of such judgments and 
astiological categories were excluded from their Interpretation. This 
view, however, rests upon a conception of " knowledge " which I 
have not noticed and which does not involve the application of judg- 
ment to it as I have explained it. It assumes that the mode of forming 
judgments as they are expressed in language can have little or nothing 
to do with the process of " knowledge" and that we have to look else- 
where to find the true genesis of it. In other words it would limit 
^' knowledge " to apprehensions and exclude all synthetic functions from 
it, while it would rob us of the right to think of subjects of any kind. 

There is a division of " knowdedge " into presentative and repre- 
se7itative by which is meant the distinction between actually present 
"phenomena" and past "phenomena" represented in memory and 
imagination, Hume's distinction between "impressions" and their 
" copies." The distinction is an important one and involves a true 
conception of the elements constituting the " stream of consciousness." 
If "knowing" or " knowledge " expresses nothing more than " hav- 
ing ideas " directly before consciousness as presentations or represen- 
tations mere facts of " experience," an everflowing series of events, 
and judgment only a mode of explaining the meaning of words which 
shall variously apply to either individual or to collective groups of 
these facts, then the problem seems to have another interpretation of 
its nature. 

Now it is true enough that every term calls up certain " represen- 
tative " qualities, or perhaps one qualitv, which stands for the object. 
We call this or them its " essential " property or properties. But 
usually some one quality is the properly " representative " one, as the 
pictured fact by which the mind "thinks" what a term or thing 
means. Other qualities may be implied bv the term, but are not 
"represented " in consciousness unless a special reason makes it neces- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 157 

sary to do so. They are always possibly " representable," and have 
come to be associated with the term by the various coexistences and 
sequences of "experience," so that whatever syntheses we have are 
supposedly the "phenomenal " syntheses under the categories of rela- 
tion, coexistence and sequence. In the use of any term, therefore, a cer- 
tain quality, present or represented in imagination, is before conscious- 
ness as its equivalent and if others are implied or asserted of the same 
object it is as a synthetic associate of the "representative" instance. 
The judgment would mean connection between the two or more quali- 
ties which have become associated in "experience," while there is 
identity between subject and predicate in so far as the "representa- 
tive" fact is concerned and the others correspond to Kant's synthetic 
function. A judgment will appear analytic when the subject implies 
the predicate idea for which the term stands, and synthetic when other 
qualities, not " representative" are associated with it. Such things as 
"categories" implying something other than the presentative or rep- 
resentative facts of consciousness are supposed to be unnecessary in 
determining the meaning of propositions or in expressing the content 
of "thought." 

The strength of this general objection against the analysis of judg- 
ment as I have presented it is in the actual amount of truth which it 
involves. One of the fundamental meanings of the term " knowledge " 
which I have recognized as important to keep in mind when discuss- 
ing its problems is that which represents it as expressing what I cer- 
tainly "know," what I "have in consciousness," and this makes it 
convertible with apprehension, " experience," or immediate conscious- 
ness, and does not imply synthetic activity or interpretation. In this 
way "representative" phenomena of consciousness become "knowl- 
edge " as well as presentative, simply by virtue of the fact that, in 
spite of the absence of " reality" such as the presentative conscious- 
ness is supposed to possess or indicate, the actual picture of past or 
possible "experience" is a certain fact, " ideal" though it be. Now 
passing from the representation that the " stream of consciousness " is 
a series of presentative and "representative" states to the characteri- 
zation of "knowledge" also as the various forms of synthesis applied 
to the elements of this " stream," we have undoubtedly a conception 
which shows what the mind must " think" of when it is asked what 
it " knows." The description and definition of its " knowledge " will 
always be in terms of the presentative and representative states, whether 
as individual events or collective groups of them. What it " knows" 
as com?7tunicable content is undoubtedly the sensible fact or " repre- 



15S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sentative," and whenever we have to make ourselves intelligible to 
queries in regard to our " knowledge" we have to refer to this con- 
tent as its meaning. 

But all this description of the process, true as it is for the social 
function of the communication of ideas, is wholly irrelevant to the 
problem of what consciousness actually does in its "thinking" and 
exjDlanatory functions. What we constantly forget in the attempt to 
solve the problem of " knowledge" is the distinction between the con- 
dition for communicating ideas, for making ourselves intelligible to 
others in terms of their "experience," and the incomm.unicable facts 
of consciousness which are indicated in the various ways in which we 
relate "empirical" or sensible and "representative" data. No mat- 
ter what the " stream of consciousness " may be, or what the syntheses 
of association may be, or what the " representative" identity between 
subject and predicate may be in the analytic aspect of certain judg- 
ments, nevertheless there is no more escape from the " noumenal " im- 
port of some terms than there is from the "phenomenal" import of 
others which actually imply the " noumenal." We cannot appeal to 
adjectival concepts as exhausting the field of what we " think " or con- 
ceive, because all terms assumed to express or imply " phenomenal " 
facts, events, attributes, qualities, properties, etc., carry with thein 
the correlated implicaite which the objection under consideration tries 
to eliminate from " knowledge," and which can be eliminated only by 
limiting the definition of " knowledge " to what we have presentatively 
and representatively as sensible or mnemonic content before conscious- 
ness. But in addition to the implication of all terms naming " phe- 
nomena" or attributive facts, there are also all substantive terms, 
which, in spite of the "representative" concept or idea indicating 
their predicate meaning, are as much entitled to the recognition of their 
transphenomenal imjDort as any terms have to their " phenomenal " 
implications. Now it is precisely this which the categories indicate 
and they apply to these implicates whether further investigation results 
in characterizing them as equally relative or not. The main point is 
that consciousness is not satisfied with the mere apprehension of events 
and as long as it regards them as events it must recognize the implica- 
tion of this conception, which even the associational school must do in 
its search for the antecedents and consequents of the facts which it 
accepts as the present data of "knowledge." On anv theory of de- 
finitive and communicable " knowledge," the postulates of reflective 
and explanatory thought are actually involved in the content of con- 
sciousness and the conceptions which it forms of facts. We mav claim 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. ^59 

that such implicates and conceptions are practically useless, that they 
are not necessary in the regulation of actual conduct, that their exis- 
tence cannot be " proved," etc. The sceptic may worry us to convince 
him of their validity by asking for tangible " proof," or to explain what 
they are. But all I'eal or imaginary difficulties of this kind do not affect 
the question of fact as to the existence of these ideas in consciousness 
and their actual implication in the very conception of the terms of 
judgment. We may treat them as pseud ideas if w^e like, but they are 
there as much as any other ideas and even result from the purely rela- 
tive import of the phenomenalist's own description of things. I have 
no objections to admitting that they cannot be "proved," as this al- 
ways involves an application of the principle of identity, while caus- 
ality or ground is not ontological bvit cetiological in its nature and repre- 
sents, in some form, an antithesis or difference between " phenomena" 
or events and their causal ground. Definition and " proof" of what 
a fact or event or thing is depends, first, upon the communicability of 
the conception ^vhich will convince others and that Is sensible repre- 
sentation or "experience," and secondly, upon the use of extensive 
judgments and these involve the application of the principle of identity 
or difference and not the setiological categories. The latter only ex- 
plain, they do not prove. To put the matter in another way, although 
the meaning of subject terms is expressed by the predicate ideas which 
are the ratio cogjtoscendi of them, this fact does not in any way identify 
the total import of the subject terms with the predicate, but is only a 
way of saying what the subject implies as to facts, while the presented 
facts of "experience" equally imply a subject idea. The fact that 
consciousness returns to a predicate idea to explain the phenomenal 
import of a subject does not eliminate the subject idea, nor contradict 
the opposite movement of thought in referring a present or represented 
event to a ground. The implication is applicable either way, so that 
the assumed identity of meaning between subject and predicate in the 
intensive judgment is only apparent and applies only to what may be 
called conceptual representation and not to the total import of the two 
terms, one of them directly standing for the subject idea and the other 
for the attribute Idea, the two being correlated and mutually implica- 
tive. Whether we need substantive, noumenal, or transphenomenal 
concepts for practical life is not the question, but whether they exist 
and whether they represent and satisfy certain intellectual tendencies 
and instincts quite as ineradicable as any philosophy that talks glibly 
about the limitations of " knowledge" to phenomena, a view admis- 
sible enough when "knowledge" means nothing more than having 



l6o THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sensible states as occurrences. But if intelligibility and explicability in 
terms of causality and ground are equally facts of consciousness their 
admission as a part of " knowledge" is unavoidable whether they have 
any utility or not. This is reinforced by the fact that any attempt to 
explain the intensive judgment as expressing nothing more than an 
associative synthesis of phenomena cannot stand an application to the 
concrete case or illustration. For example, the judgment "Oranges 
are yellow " does not seem intelligible under the explanation that it 
means to afhrm that the facts A, B, and C are D, or that the group 
of facts ABC are D. The fact is that the copula expresses either 
identity of some kind or a relation of inhesion or non-inhesion. The 
form of statement has no rational meaning unless this be the conception 
of it. The fact of coexistent synthesis is also there, as a condition of 
apprehending any other relation, but this fact does not force me to 
limit the meaning of the judgment to the mere category of space or 
time relations. The other is there as a part of the intellectual inter- 
pretation of wdiat the facts imply as well as associative synthesis, and 
the question of utility must be settled afterward, if it be present at all. 
This is evident in the actual thinking of the physical sciences which 
always interprets its facts and " phenomena " as modes or attributes of 
substantive realities without regard to questions of associational theories. 
It was not in "metaphysics" that this intellectual habit began, but it 
lay at the very basis of all physical science as a part of what was 
assumed to be necessary for satisfactory explanation. This necessity 
was for a nucleus or center of reference to make all change intelligible 
and to escape the supposition that things have come from nothing. 
The philosopher will accept almost any supersensible fact rather than 
abandon the maxim of ex 7iihilo iiihil Jit. 

But the force of the skeptic's and phenomenalist's position and 
the limitation of " knowledge " show themselves best when we ask what 
this " cause " or " ground " is, which persists in asserting its legitimacy. 
It is the old problem of telling what anything is. In such a proposi- 
tion as " Snow is white" it is not always assumed that we are telling 
what " snow" /i-, but onlj- telling the fact that it has the property of 
whiteness, and as the whiteness is " representatively" and " experien- 
tially " the same as " snow " the querv to know what more It can mean, 
if it is not absolutely identical with the predicate, is quite natural. That 
is, we may naturally enough ask what snow is if It is not convertible 
with the " experience " which Is certainly the prius of all that the term 
is supposed to Indicate. To assert or assume that the " snow " is the 
cause or ground of the " whiteness " is at once to assert more than the 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. i6l 

given " experience" which is supposed to be the ratio cognoscendi of 
more than a "phenomenal" fact. If the sceptic thinks that he 
"knows" nothing more than this phenomenal fact he asks that we 
give some account of the assumed reality that claims to be more than 
the "experience." What is a cause or ground, if it is not a mere 
illusion ? 

Now when the sceptic asks the question " What is a thing? " there 
is implied in this question that if we cannot tell him " what it is," or 
convince him in terms of his own " experience" what the asserted or 
assumed " reality " is, we have no right to believe in it. The inability 
to answer the query to the sceptic's satisfaction is construed as tanta- 
mount to a confession of ignorance on the part of the person questioned. 
But the fact is that the sceptic's question cannot be rationally answei'ed 
until we know what it means or in reality asks for. It is an equivo- 
cal interrogation. It appears to ask for simple information which can 
be supplied by stating a matter of fact, but it really carries with its 
apparent demand for information an assertion that, unless proof of 
u'hat is assuined in the idea of cause or ground is forthcoming, its truth 
is not credible. That is, behind the sceptic's question is an assumption 
quite as much needing support as any that he means to doubt. He 
neither recognizes the equivocal nature of his query nor frankly faces 
the assumption which is concealed behind an apparent demand for in- 
formation as to matters of fact. But his assumption that I must either 
convince him of my belief or admit its invalidity is easily disposed of 
by the fact that it is not my business to convince anybody of anything 
\vhatever, if I cannot rely upon human faculty to do its duty in the 
process. The advantage of the sceptic lies in the fact that he can 
shelter himself behind the _/c>;';«a/ question for information while he 
tacitly holds to a dogmatism which is not willing to come out into the 
arena and accept responsibility for its assumptions or assertions. Of 
course, I cannot expect him to believe unless I can give him good rea- 
sons in some way for doing it, but neither can he expect me to accept 
his implied limitation of " knowledge" unless he can give equally good 
reasons for his belief. Both must agree as to the laws of thought in 
order to get any basis for fruitful interchange of ideas at this point and 
if this agreement cannot be obtained none can be. The sceptic, how- 
ever, cannot well admit that we actually do think in terms- of something 
else than " phenomena " while impeaching the validity of the process 
and at the same time assume or assert that the test of all truth is the 
facts of " experience," because the cogency of his contention against 
transphenomenalism is that the fact of a mode of thought is not guar- 



1 63 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

antee of its validity and he can have no guarantee of the limitations of 
*' knowledge " to "phenomena" except the alleged fact that mental 
action is so limited. But the denial that facts or laws of thinking as 
facts or instinctive habits can guarantee themselves leaves the sceptic 
Avhere he must question the assumption that " knowledge" is limited 
to the " phenomena " expressed by the predicates of judgments quite 
as much as he questions the extension of this " knowledge " to the trans- 
phenomenal nature of the facts expressed by the subjects. This, how- 
ever, places him where he ought to have started, namely, in the posi- 
tion of the agnostic, which is the true scepticism and which will say as 
little about the limitations as the extension of " knowledge," and this 
agnosticism is the confession of ignorance which is as great in one as 
in the other of these terms. There will be nothing to be said against 
this position, as no argument or statement can appeal to the lack of 
mental power to see a truth. 

The same conclusion results from another way of presenting the 
case. The question " what is a thing " either demands evidence for the 
assertion of its existence or that existence is admitted as a fact and its 
" nature" is asked for. That is to say, in asking what a thing is, we 
have an equivocal question. We may be doubtful as to the fact as- 
serted or assumed, or we may, admitting it to be a fact, wish to know 
its "nature." The former is the true sceptical question, and the latter 
is a question for further "knowledge" to make the alleged fact more 
intelligible. Now the only answer to the latter question is a definition^ 
as long as the intensive judgment and its implication of causality or 
ground other than the predicate is the subject of doubt. Now all defi- 
nition is possible only under the principle of identity. The principle 
of contradiction or difference is not allowed in definition. I mean, of 
course, logical definition, and not descriptive definition in terms of in- 
tensive propositions. If then the question, " What is a thing? " is an- 
swered by a definition and by means of the principle of identit}-, it 
must be done in terms of extensive judgments which are satisfied by 
ontological categories and do not require to more than tacitly assume 
the ^etiological, if even this much is admissible. Now this identity 
required by the definition must be expressed either in terms of a like 
aetiological category to that which is supposed to determine the mean- 
ing of the reality whose existence is under suspicion or in terms of 
phenomena. But as cEtiological existence is what the sceptical ques- 
tion doubts, it cannot be assumed to define it for any purposes of con- 
vincing the doubter, whatever else the definition may effect. To the 
sceptic the cause or ground is " unknown " and any definition that he can 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 163 

accept as either intelligible or suggestive of truth must be in terms of 
what is "known" to him, as he simply pushes his inquiries farther. 
But definition in terms of what he " knows " must represent predicate 
concepts of the " phenomenal " type and not the ^Etiological. But this 
would convince or confound the sceptic only on the condition that the 
astiological concepts remained indistinguishable from the " phenome- 
nal." That result would resolve all judgments into the extensive and 
leave " knowledge" with nothing but the principle of identity or dif- 
ference as its determinative category and with nothing to explain the dis- 
tinction between coexistences and sequences that are casual and those 
that are causal. But conceding either the truth or error of this posi- 
tion, it is certain that any attempt to answer the sceptic's question in 
terms of the principle of identity, which is all that we can do in the 
communication of "knowledge" from mind to mind, must assume 
that the conception by which the jetiological idea is defined is ' ' known " 
by the inquirer and that he is asking for an explanation of an individ- 
ual case. But the fact is that the sceptic suspects the very conception 
by which the definition is possible and hence subject concepts are not 
usable in the process of satisfying his demand, and predicate concepts, 
which he admits he does " know " are neither disputed in regard to 
their existence and validity nor capable of proving a content supposed 
to be other than themselves unless the category of causality be ad- 
mitted. The principle of identity will not transcend the fact given, 
nor give anything but an ontological explanation. It is primarily the 
.Eetiological category that explains phenomena. It is at least necessary 
to explain their occurrence or existence. The limits of definition and 
argument are such that, unless the premises contain the material truth 
.sought, the formal process can never guarantee it. This is a truism, but 
we require to be reminded of it at this juncture in order to be sure that it 
will be applied to the concrete case. Now however the ^etiological 
•categories may coincide with the ontological, or to put it more specif- 
ically, however the principles of causality may coincide w^ith that of 
identity, the two are not convertible. Again we must remark that only 
the principle of identity can be involved in the transmission of 
" knowledge," whether by definition or ratiocination. Etiological 
principles can never determine the process of reasoning as a medium 
or vehicle for transmitting ideas, so that unless it is involved in the 
matter of the act of communication causality can never be found in 
the conception or conclusion conveyed. Consequently we cannot con- 
vmce the sceptic or make our answer to his question about the " nature " 
of a cause or ground intelligible by the only resource which is left us 



164 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

after the aetiological principle is made subject to tlie law of ratiocina- 
tive " proof." By supposition it is not convertible with the ontologi- 
cal and so cannot be subject to any ad homine7)i construction, and 
hence, if admissible, must be the product of individual and not of 
social functions. That is to say, the sceptic must see it for himself 
and if he does not there is no way to make him see it. He must be 
capable of analyzing the contents of his own consciousness and these 
must be the same as his neighbor's. The same would be true of any 
other principle which he might question. The ontological categories 
only happen not to be disputed, so that the extensive judgment and its 
interpretation never becomes the subject of doubt. But if he raised 
any sceptical question as to its validity, the social functions which con- 
stitute the essential nature of the ratiocinative process as it now acts, 
would never substantiate it, because its very basis would be subject 
to doubt ai:id he would have to be turned over to his personal conscious- 
ness quite as certainly and quite as absolutely as he must be in the 
Eetiological principles which cannot be made convertible wnth the 
ontological, the latter being the sole condition of all social relations 
and interchanges in the intellectual world. 

Having disposed of that implication of the sceptic's question which 
suggests the invalidity of the causal idea unless its " nature " is told him 
in terms of the principle of identity, and hence having thrown him upon 
the responsibility for conviction as to the fact of a principle not so 
convertible, there remains the further examination of the associations 
and implications usually involved in the demand to know ivhat a 
thing is. 

The habit of telling what a thing is by means of a definition leads to 
the tendency to conceive this "nature" in terms of the principles 
which determine the meaning of a definition, and these principles are 
the ontological. As I have shown, all definitions are regulated by the 
principle of identity and difference, and the consequence is that all 
attempts to state the " nature" of a fact or thing by means of a defini- 
tion will bring to the front of consciousness the idea of identity and 
difference as determinative of this "nature," even though substantive 
terms are employed in the definition. That is, the extensive judg- 
ment will always carry with it as its primarv signification merely the 
identity or difference between subject and predicate without regard to 
other conceptions indicated or indicable by its terms. The principle 
of difference is employed, not to determine the primarv element of 
the definition, but the secondary or differential. This is explained 
by formal logic. What I wish to note in the fact is that the defini- 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 165 

tion of the "nature " of a thing is not completed until the differential 
or specific as well as its conferential or generic qualities are indicated, 
a circumstance that will have some significance in the sequel of this 
discussion. 

The fundamental fact to be noticed in this process, after we have 
called attention to the functiorx of definition in the communication of 
" knowledge," which has been a studied object and which keeps the idea 
of identity and extensive judgments in the foreground, is that, in spite 
of the formal character of the definition as embodying identity, it has all 
the implications of the intensive judgment. The predicate of a defini- 
tion has no meaning unless it indicates, if only by implication, the at- 
tributes or qualities of the subject. The differential characteristic can- 
not have any other import, since it is specifically excluded from the 
generic or conferential term in the case. The conferential properties 
are implied. Even when the concepts defined represent attributive 
ideas the definition conceives the subject as the possessor of a property 
in terms of the differentia, so as to conform to the formal demands of 
a definition. But as this is not always the case, a mere relation being 
used to effect the same end, the main point is to observe that, in spite 
of the use of extensive judgments in the definition, the obverse side of 
them indicates the presence of the intensive judgment by implication 
at least, and the conception of qualities, events, "phenomena," comes 
in with its relative import demanding for explication something else 
than itself, whether that something else turns out on investigation to 
be phenomenal or transphenomenal. Besides the fact that the inten- 
sive judgment is the prior form of cognition also shows that the ulti- 
mate process of "knowledge" is in terms of the intensive judgment 
and not in the extensive as the sceptical position would imply. The 
final interpretation of the extensive judgment enforces this view. This 
means that ultimately the " nature" of a thing is expressed by what it 
does^ by the properties which it exhibits. This fact is easily concealed 
by the ontological implications of the extensive judgment and also by 
the fact that, when any statement is made, such as " Snow is white," 
the further question to know what " snow" is, leads most naturally to 
the extensive judgment which conceals the intensive import behind the 
employment of ontological principles. Besides the very question to 
know what the thing is in terms of something else than the affirmed 
quality " white " creates the impression that the "nature" of a thing 
is something else than the fact stated and when this something else than 
the predicate given is indicated observation will soon show that it too 
is either a like predicate or implies one. The consequence is that the 



1 66 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ultimate mode of telling what a thing is simply states what it does or what 
it " is " in intensive terms. In the question the copula naturally conveys 
the conception of the extensive judgment and so the idea of identity, 
but remembering that the same term in the intensive judgment is com- 
patible with or implies the relation of attribute to subject, we find that 
" is " can just as well express the " nature" of a thing in its qualities 
or what it does as it can in terms of identity with something else. 
This means that the intensive judgment can as well be chosen to ex- 
press the " nature" of a thing as the extensive, though it does not in- 
volve comparison, and represents the ultimate type of "knowledge" 
in expressing the nature and limits of the process. We can, therefore 
as well tell what a thing is by telling its attributes and what it does, 
which is only a way of expressing its qualities in dynamic terms, as by 
a definition, though the latter is the only method of co?nmtc?ticating- 
this "knowledge" in terms of the "experience" of others. When 
therefore we want to know what a thing is we. have only to seek what 
it does or what qualities it presents, and these are ultimately all that we 
can obtain as sensible " phenomena " representing the evidence of the 
reality whose " nature" we inquire for and whose " nature" does not 
need to be conceived in any other terms. 

Now as the sceptical question seems to ask for something which we 
are supposed not to " know," and as this final outcome of the analysis 
results in the assumption that what we " know " is precisely the quali- 
ties or phenomena represented by the predicate we seem to confess that 
the aetiological principle is not "known," and in the adoption of the 
phrase that " all that can be ' known ' is what a thing does " we may 
be chargeable with phenomenalism after all has been said and done. 
I do not object to such a conclusion if we understand righth' the use of 
the term "knowledge." If "knowledge" mean to have as a phe- 
nomenal or sensible datum of consciousness, I agree that we cannot 
" know " any aetiological fact and it will be hopeless to define it, as the 
sceptical question would demand, especially in terms of the categoiy of 
identity. But if "knowledge" mean also what explains or is implied 
by events, "phenomena," qualities, etc., the correlates of all that is 
conceived as relative, then causes or grounds are equally " known" 
though we may not have them as a part of the " phenomenal " content 
of the act that cognizes them. In saying that " phenomena" are the 
only evidence of causes or grounds we do not say that the thing evi- 
denced is not " known," except that term be limited to having- the state 
of consciousness without regard to its implications. " Phenomena " are 
the ratio cognoscendi of causes, not their ratio essendi^ as conceived 



CONDITIONS OF SYNTHETIC KNOWLEDGE. 167 

under the usual mode of representing it, namely by definition and de- 
scription which are expressed in terms of comparison and the principle 
of identity. In saying, then, that "all we 'know' is what a thing 
does" we only say that the only evidence of its existence is this fact, 
but the ratio cognoscendi does not necessarily determine the ratio 
essendi of a thing. It is only a way of indicating the reason for the 
mind's belief or assertion of a fact. The same fact may be its ratio 
essendi., assuming that this idea has as much elasticity as our concep- 
tion of judgment, which we have seen may be either intensive or exten- 
sive, but it will be regarded as such only in so far as we adopt the 
expression that a thing's " nature" is as well indicated in what it does 
as in what it is., expressed in terms of identity. Hence we may well 
say that " phenomena " are the evidence of causes or grovmds, not their 
"nature" in terras of identity, so that we can describe this " nature" 
in terms of "phenomena" only after the conception of the intensive 
judgment which holds to this "nature" compatibly with the implica- 
tion of cause or ground which the conception of "phenomena" im- 
plies, whether the final analysis discovers an identity between the pre- 
dicate and subject or not. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 

I HAVE SO far only indicated the processes by which what is called 
" knowledge " is obtained and have not intended to determine finally by 
such an explanation either the nature or validity of that " knowledge" 
beyond what may be suggested bv the character of the process itself. 
But we come now to the consideration of those theories which have 
meant to say something about what we are supposed to " know," or 
rather perhaps whether this " knowledge" involves the legitimacy of 
any assertion about "reality" beyond the states of consciousness as- 
sumed to "know" or not "know" it. These theories are supposed 
to indicate the extent or limits of "knowledge" and to consider the 
validity of judgments affecting those limits. The two theories which 
have been variously discussed in the history of speculation in connec- 
tion with "perception" have been called Idealism and Realism. I 
have ah'eady indicated the limits within which I shall apply them, 
namely, that they shall be treated as epistemological and not noumeno- 
logical theories. This limitation we found to mean that they are modes 
of expression for the nature and limits of " knowledge," and especially 
for the limits of our "knowledge" of external " reality." I insisted 
that the question of the nature of a "reality" at any time "known" 
was distinct from the question of our " knowing" it and I mean still 
to carry out this conception of our problem. The reason for this will 
be more apparent later than at present, as the general usage of the term 
Idealism as a metaphysical theory tends to prevent the immediate re- 
cognition of the more limited application of it as defined here. But if 
we once make clear the distinction between the problem regarding the 
fact of "reality" and that regarding the ?zature of it, we shall more 
easily recognize the limitation of import here assigned to the terms 
Idealism and Realism. 

I must now enter into a more careful definition of these theories 
and what they attempt to do. All that I have done hitherto is to indi- 
cate what they are not and what they do not predetermine. I have 
said that I shall treat both of them as quite compatible with either of 
the metaphysical theories. Materialism and Spiritualism. What we 
have next to do is to say what thev do mean in positive terms. 

If I were to ignore historical usage of the terms and the philosophi- 

i6S 



THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 169 

cal conceptions and systems which gave rise to these two epistemo- 
logical theories I might find it easy to define them, I would suit the 
definitions to the problem to be solved in "perception" and the tra- 
ditional opposition to the theories. But I might beg the whole question 
in this, and hence it is better to recognize what others have said about 
them at the starting point of the discussion. 

When I come to look about, however, I find that the idealists have 
never condescended to any clear definition of their position. So many 
different philosophical doctrines have taken refuge under this concep- 
tion or term that it would not be easy to define it clearly. And it seems 
also to be characteristic of every school of it not to do its philosophical 
thinking in a way to favor clear definition. Its advocates are generally 
vociferous in their declarations identifying themselves with what they 
call idealism, but they do not take the trouble to indicate definitely what 
the doctrine stands for. One exception can be made to this statement, 
or at least apparent exception. The idealist is always opposed to 
Materialism. This is a red rag to him and always invokes his con- 
tempt. What this " Materialism " is, however, I have never been able 
to identify or associate with that Materialism which has already pro- 
voked controversy. Hence I do not find in this opposition to Material- 
ism any definite hint of what will define the term " Idealism." One 
term is as undefined as the other in all of the issues that have given the 
doctrine of Materialism its import and influence. Generally when a 
term is not definitely defined its relation to what it is supposed to con- 
tradict is a clue to its significance, and hence if we knew what 
" Materialism " represented we might easily understand what Idealism 
meant by knowing what it denied. But the traditional Materialism 
identified with Lucretius and Epicurus, and with the modern atomic 
doctrine and its implications in the explanation of the phenomena and 
functions of organic life, besides being a metaphysical theory, is not 
the conception against which the idealist directs his opposition. Con- 
sequently it affords no indication of what we shall suppose Idealism to 
be in any clearly defined issue. This would make no difference to us 
if the idealists had supplied us always with a definition of the issue as 
they imderstood it, as we should not I'equire to resort to the assumed 
negation of "Materialism" for a suspicion of the term's meaning. 
But I have never yet found any definition of the doctrine which would 
apply in the same sense to the philosophical doctrines which masquerade 
under the term, and much less any disposition to state clearly the issues 
involved at the outset. The consequence of this is that I cannot state 
any generally accepted import for the doctrine of Idealism in the Ian- 



170 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

guage of its defenders. I could indicate what I think their position is 
and means, but this is not allowing its advocates fair play. There are 
certain propositions which they usually agree are the maxims or bases 
of their doctrine and which might be appealed to as a definition, or an 
indication of what the definition would be. They are such statements 
as the following : " All knowledge must be in terms of consciousness." 
"All reality can be known only in terms of consciousness." "We 
can know nothing about things except in terms of consciousness." 
" Things can be known only in relation to consciousness," etc. If 
these statements were perfectly self-interpreting we might determine 
exactly what Idealism means, but they are forms of expression that are 
either equivocal or are admissible without debate by the school to which 
the idealist is presumably opposed. Unless the latter is at the same time 
a phenomenalist he does not unequivocally commit himself to the state- 
ment that we know only mental states even when he limits knowledge 
to phenomena. Consequently between the sceptical position that we 
"know" nothing but subjective states and the relativist's position that 
we do not "know "things in themselves but only "phenomena," we 
do not find any assured limitations to the idealist's conception of his 
doctrine. 

I have also remarked in a previous chapter that Idealism has been 
opposed historically to Realism. If, then, we can find a clear concep- 
tion of what the realist maintains we may be able to ascertain just what 
the idealist would have us understand by his position. Now there is 
one general conception for which Realism has universally stood. It is 
that consciousness can know something beyond itself. That is 
" knowledge" can be of an object not itself. Now if Idealism is to 
be conceived as disputing this view its position is clear and it could be 
defined as the doctrine which limits the " knowledge " of consciousness 
to itself. This would establish a clear antithesis between the two doc- 
trines, and also identify Idealism with Phenomenalism of the subjec- 
tive type. But unfortunately for this clear conception of the problem, 
which would make Idealism identical with Solipsism, we have to reckon 
with practically three schools of realists and at least two of idealists. 
The realists divide as already indicated into the Natiu^al or Intuitive 
and the Hypothetical Realists. The hypothetical realists admit that 
sensations do not present or represent the nature of the object of 
" knowledge," but are affections of the subject. They interpret the 
belief in the external object or " reality" as the product of an infer- 
ence, based on the principle of causality. The natural realists deny 
that it is an inference and maintain that it is an immediate object of 



THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 171 

consciousness. But there are two types of this which I may call the 
naive and the reflective, or perhaps philosophical. The naive is that 
of the common imeducated man who has never suspected that there can 
be a problem in the matter and who does not know or reflect upon the 
relation of illusion to the question. He seems never to suppose that 
the nature of things might be different from what they appear in his 
sensational experience. He takes his uncritical or uncriticised judg- 
ment as the final word on the matter. The reflective realist, not wish- 
ing to expose the certitude and felt necessity of his belief to the pi^e- 
carious certification of inference and also wishing to admit the problems 
incident to illusion and critical judgments of sense, resorts to an intui- 
tive process for giving this " reality," though he makes it now an ap- 
plication of the principle of causality and now a direct " perception" 
based on the primary qualities of matter, with allowance for the claims 
of Idealism in the secondary qualities. It will be in this, however, 
that the reflective realist comes very near to hypothetical Realism, so 
near that it might seem possible to push him over the precipice into 
this by dexterous logic. On the other hand, there is a type of idealist, 
sometimes called Cosmothetic, which adopts the statement that all im- 
mediate " knowledge " is limited to the states of consciousness, but 
admits that the belief in the existence of an external world is too tena- 
cious to be resolved into a sort of nihilism and so admits that this 
"reality" is an object of inference, and thus this type of thinkers be- 
comes identical with the hypothetical realists. In order, therefore, to 
be absolutely opposed to Realism the idealist must limit the conception 
of "knowledge" to immediate certitude and presentations not repre- 
sentative of an external " reality" and adopt the doctrine of Solipsism. 
Any other position brings it into agreement with realism in some form, 
and the opposition of those theories is not what it seems in the discus- 
sions of philosophers. How apparent this is in every form of " ob- 
jective " Idealism will be seen by further analysis and discussion. 

Not having been able to obtain a definition of either Idealism or 
Realism that would embody a single clear issue between them, it will 
be necessary to examine the various positions indicated and the several 
conceptions involved in the postulates of the modern idealists. There 
is, of course, a clear opposition between nai've Realism and every form 
of Idealism. But the same opposition exists between naVve and reflec- 
tive Realism, or between nai've and hypothetical Realism. Hence the 
idealist gains nothing by indiscriminate assault vipon Realism. We 
must first know just what particular type of Realism he is attacking 
before we accord him the advantage of the argument. We may find 



172 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

him doizig nothing more than repudiating the ideas of his childhood 
without exhibiting due knowledge of the history of human thought 
where Realism has stood for something more defensible against scepti- 
cism than the crude ideas of peasants and children. Whatever his 
errors and misconceptions of idealists he has always intended that his 
doctrine should be expressed in a firm confidence in the belief of some- 
thing else than the individual's states of consciousness. It is the definite 
and explicit antithesis of Phenomenalism in all forms in the funda- 
mental postulate that a " reality " other than mental states is a certain 
or necessary truth. Idealism can oppose this only by taking up the 
position that our "knowledge" is limited to our subjective states or 
phenomena, that is, to Solipsism. We are brought, therefore, to the 
examination of this postulate and the various propositions which are 
advanced to define or support the doctrine of Idealism. 

If we adopt the statement that we " know" only phenomena and 
then define " phenomena " as " appearances," meaning thereby states of 
consciousness and those of the subject having them, we have Solipsism 
as the interpretation. To escape it we should have to enter into an 
analysis and definition of the terms " knowledge" and " phenomena." 
If we adopt as the premise of our argument the proposition that we 
can "know things only in terms of consciousness" we have a state- 
ment which is not so clear as it seems unless it is identical with the 
one just mentioned. If identical with this the conclusion will be the 
same. If not identical with it the only meaning that it can apparently 
have other than this is either that we cannot " knoxv " anything with- 
out being conscious of it, or that we cannot be certain of anything 
except our states of consciousness. The former is a truism for both 
the realist and the idealist, except that it assumes " conscious knowl- 
edge " to be of the subject's own states only, in which case it again ter- 
minates in Solipsism. The latter does not exclude a rational belief m. 
what is not an immediate datum of consciousness so that the opposition 
between Realism and Idealism would be reduced to the question 
whether the existence of something other than the subject's own states 
was an object of mediate or immediate " knowledge," or whether it 
was an object of "belief" or an object of "knowledge." This is a legiti- 
mate distinction to make, but it has no practical importance of great 
dimensions, unless we accord belief far less influence on conduct than 
is the fact. 

It is in the relation to action that the whole crux of the interests 
involved is to found. All belief and all " knowledge" are of interest 
to men onlv as thev affect their actions. No one would care for theo- 



THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 1 73 

ries of " reality " and " knowledge" were it not for the validity and 
effect of certain accepted maxims or supposed truths on the question of 
the rationality of conduct. If there be no hobgoblins, for instance, I 
do not have to regulate my action on the assumption that there are such 
facts. If there be no precipice in front of me I can continue my walk 
without personal danger in the desired direction. Now it is unfortu- 
nate for this discussion between Idealism and Realism that certain im- 
plications are associated with the phrases in which the limits of 
" knowledge " are expressed. To say that I " know only phenomena," 
or that I " know only my own states," is to imply that there is some- 
thing or that there may be something which I do not know. It is 
agreed on all hands that there is reason to assign decided limits to our 
" knowledge." But it is customary to interpret the expression " I 
don't know " as one permitting a freedom in regard to action and in- 
action that is not admissible in the case of " knowledge." Scepticism 
has always claimed a freedom in the absence of " knowledge" which 
it would not assert if it were certain that the object of doubt were 
" known." Hence it is a natural tendency to interpret the limitation 
of " knowledge " to subjective states as implying the right of indiffer- 
ence in action related to the external "reality" supposedly not 
" known." For example, if I am entitled to ignore the existence of 
anything not "known" to be a fact when I come to act, I might 
ignore the walls of my room on the assumption that I " know" noth- 
ing more than my states of consciousness. This, of course, is the con- 
ception of the case which really or apparently gave force to Johnson's 
reply to Berkeley in the famous example of kicking the stone. It may 
or may not be a misconception of the problem on which the difficulty 
is founded. With this I am not concerned. I am only indicating the 
conceptions in the general habits of mankind and the use of language 
that evokes opposition whenever such fundamental statements as the 
idealists make are made the premises of a doctrine, and we are entitled 
to mention the fact as a means of demanding a critical exposition of 
the real meaning of their terms consistent with conduct. If the idealist 
would supplement his denial of the " knowledge of external reality," 
vs'hich is an implicaton of the limitation of it to consciousness, by as- 
serting the rights of belief where direct and immediate " knowledge" 
is not possible, the case might be different. But in ignoring this 
resource for legitimating the action of men toward that which may not 
be considered an object of "knowledge" he actually, if indirectly, 
lends support to the popular conception of the absurdity of his position 
and so does Dr. Johnson's mode of illustrating it. 



174 ^^'liE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

What the ideaHst ought to realize is that the primary difficulty with 
his doctrine is the equivocal meaning of the term "knowledge." I 
have already called attention to its double meaning, both of certitude 
and systematization, in which the latter conception involves nothing 
more than the probability of induction, and also the further double 
meaning of " perceiving " and having or being. It is this latter equiv- 
ocation which I wish to notice more carefully for the present. 

There is a natural tendency to identify the conception of " know- 
ing" with having a state of consciousnCoS. This grows out of the 
frequent, if not general, assumption that intuitive or immediate con- 
sciousness is possible only for the limits of consciousness as a func- 
tional activity of the subject. We noticed in discussing Apprehension 
that we could not finally distinguish between sensation and apprehen- 
sion, or mentation and apprehension, at least in their numerical aspects. 
This suggests to the mind that "knowing" and "being" a state of 
consciousness are the same. The consequence of this tendency, con- 
scious or unconscious, should induce the idealist to analyze carefully 
the propositions on which he founds his general doctrine, and if he 
thinks that immediate "knowledge," or "knowing" is or implies 
" being" or having a state of consciousness, he should distinguish that 
certitude which he accords to the belief in objective " reality " from the 
certitude of " knowledge." That is, he should recognize two sources 
■of certitude, if he admits the fact of this certitude in regard to both in- 
ternal and external " reality." This would put an end to illusions and 
controversies about the meaning of his theory. The question is not 
whether we shall call our convictions regarding objective "reality" 
an act of " knowledge," but whether our convictions are either cer- 
tain or rational, or sufficiently firm and certifiable to give our conduct 
a rational meaning. 

The best way to test the meaning of Idealism and its relation to so- 
called Realism as an opposing theory is to ascertain whether the 
idealists are willing to accept the real or apparent logical consequence 
of their fundamental propositions which lead to Solipsism. There is 
an interpretation to these propositions \vhich leads nowhere else. The 
limitation of "knowledge" to states of consciousness naturally implies, 
to many people at least, that the subject cannot transcend his own men- 
tal acts in what he "knows" or believes. If the idealist actually 
accepts this position, or Solipsism, it is difficult, if not absolutely im- 
possible to dislodge him. I know of no M'ay to refute Solipsism. It 
is logical and offers no premise, when strictly maintained, for an ad 
ho7?iinem argument against it and it is difficult to secure anv other 



THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 175 

argument when ad rem considerations are not appreciated by the scep- 
tic who insists on being logically consistent in the subjective interpre- 
tation of " knowledge." But I doubt whether there has ever been an 
idealist who would for a moment accept the solipsistic interpretation of 
his doctrine. Even Berkeley, when he insisted on denying the exis- 
tence of matter, was emphatic in the affirmation of something else than 
his own states of consciousness. He admitted the existence of some 
other "reality" than himself, something "outside" himself, even if 
he called it "spirit" (God) and other " minds" (men and animals) 
than his own. Other idealists quite universally agree that there are 
other individual beings with states of consciousness besides themselves. 
They are very vociferous about social units or social consciousness and 
not one of them would allow it to be supposed that he had any solipsis- 
tic sympathies. All this, whatever the phraseology adopted in their 
fundamental espistemological maxims, simply proves that they accept 
in some way the realistic conception of the possibility that conscious- 
ness transcends itself in what it posits. That is, it "knows" some- 
thing besides its own states, though if that is an objectionable term, 
we may say that it accepts the existence of transsubjective facts with 
the same certitude that it feels in regard to the subjective, call the latter 
what you will. This belief is an acceptance of the fundamental postu- 
late of Realism and makes Idealism identical with it in all essential 
characteristics. It appears then that the defence of Solipsism is the 
only hope of any direct and clear opposition between Idealism and 
Realism. The question as to the nature of objective "reality" does 
not enter into the controversy so far as the problem of transcending 
consciousness is concerned. There are differences of opinion on this 
point, but they are not affected by the question whether the area of 
"knowledge" is or is not limited to the states and affections of the 
subject. If we can on either theory transcend consciousness in what 
is affirmed to exist, that is, the consciousness of the individual subject, 
we have a position that does not define its own limits and it will only 
be a question of what the capacities of the subject are and the facts to 
determine whether this transsubjective fact is or is not like the state 
which "knows" it. On the fundamental question of epistemology 
therefore Idealism and Realism do not differ from each other in their 
doctrine, and there is no fair excuse why the animosities real or appar- 
ent between them should be any longer entertained. 

There is a decided difference of opinion between the naive realist 
and the scientific idealist, but this is nothing more than the difference 
between the clodhopper and the educated man on all questions in any 



176 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

subject. It is a difference of culture, of breadth of knowledge, and not 
of opinion on the question whether " knowledge " has a range of asser- 
tion beyond the subject's states. The idealist who insists upon assert- 
ing or implying that Realism has had no other meaning than the un- 
critical conceptions of the uneducated would give it, either ignores the 
facts of history in philosophy or he is interested in the misrepresenta- 
tion of the case. For it is apparent to the merest tyro in philosophy 
that, ever since the Sophists and the later Sceptics it has been a prob- 
lem to explain how consciousness could " know " anything but its own 
states, and that the realist has stood for the possibilit}- of " knowing" 
moi^e than these. It is true that often the realist, in proportion as his 
education or interests identified him with the naive conceptions of man- 
kind generally, thought that we as directly "knew" the nature of 
' ' reality " other than consciousness as well as the fact that there was a 
transcendent existence. But the historical position of the hypothetical 
realist, as well the fact that the very conception of the " real" other 
than the " ideal " does not commit the mind unequivocally to the nature 
of it, shows that we have no right to impress iipon Realism the uncriti- 
cal conceptions of uneducated people simply to save an aristocratic 
and respectable position for Idealism. On the only point having any 
interest in epistemology, namely, the transcendency of " knowledge," 
they are essentially agreed. That conception of Idealism prevalent in 
Ethics I do not admit as relevant in this question. In epistemology 
Idealism is a theory as to what we " know" as fact. In Ethics it is 
not a name for a theory of any "reality" other than or "outside" 
consciousness, but for the doctrine that " ideals " are the still unrealized 
object of consciousness. It is a name for what otight to be as distinct 
from what is. Or it is the name for the fact that man can create an 
order in the physical and social world better than a given order, so that 
ethical Idealism is a name for possible ends of volition that are desir- 
able and not mere facts of cognition or " knowledge" before the act of 
idealization takes place. The consequence is that Idealism in the ethi- 
cal sense has no relation whatever to the epistemological question of 
the subjective or transsubjective range of " knowledge." 

There have been, however, certain advantages to reflective thought 
associated with the development of Idealism that the realists have not 
been any more forward to claim than the idealists. They are the re- 
sults of scepticism. The onlv element in Idealism that has been of any 
value to speculative thought has been that of scepticism, and the em- 
phasis upon the anthropocentric point of view which it enforces. It 
has not been the suggestions of the term " Idealism" that have done 



THEORIES OF KNOWLEDGE. 1 77 

the work, but the fact of scepticism at the basis of the whole movement 
and which could conceal its own operation under an orthodox mask. 
If the idealist had avowed that it was scepticism that lay at the basis of 
his system and tendencies he would have received no hearing, but by 
concealing this fact and adjusting himself in some way to the conser- 
vative instincts and beliefs of mankind he has been able to secure the 
respect of the intellectuals and of the religious type while he evaded 
classification with the untutored plebs. His sympathies, intellectual 
and moral have always been on the side of what is best in human 
achievement and aspiration, though this required him to mediate be- 
tween ignorant conservatism and intolerent radicalism. The necessity 
of concealing the sceptical basis of his system and of maintaining 
silence on the popular religious ideas has always exposed him to the 
charge of hypocrisy by those temperaments that love and exalt free- 
dom, but this has been the price which he paid for the opportunity to 
be serviceable at all. This is clear in the philosophical systems of the 
great idealists who could be neither clear and radical nor orthodox and 
conservative on any of the great problems of theology. On the other 
hand the realist has allowed his system to be associated wath the inter- 
ests of dogmatism in both philosophy and theology and hence has dis- 
credited its intellectual acumen as much as the idealist had compro- 
mised his clearness and sincerity. Idealism conceals in its folds the 
seeds of both " culture and anarchy," depending on the question 
whether its issue is in Solipsism or a modified realism. On the other 
hand, realism conceals the tendencies of both imperialism and social- 
ism, depending on the question whether it issues in dogmatism or a 
modified idealism. All these sympathies and antipathies, however, 
were not the necessary consequence logically of any fundamental differ- 
ence between the two schools of thought in the essential question of 
epistemology as I have defined it, namely, the question of fact regard- 
ing the subjective or transsubjective capacity of " knowledge," but of 
other motives and influences altogether. The consequence is that I 
attach no importance whatever in epistemology to the controversy be- 
tween Idealism and Realism unless the former accepts the most palp- 
able irjterpretation of its language and identifies itself with Solipsism. 
On any other view its real beliefs are the same as Realism, as I have 
shown, on all the questions having any value for clear thinking and 
the determination of practical truth. 



CHAPTER VII . 
THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 

Pilate's question, ' What is truth ? ' was an echo of Graeco-Roman 
philosophy and was probably not appreciated in its sceptical sense by 
the person to whom it was put. But whether so or not it is the ques- 
tion of all inquiring minds and assumes either a desire for mere infor- 
mation as to facts or a demand for proof of assertions already made. 
The conception of a "criterion" for truth seems to have first been 
suggested by the Stoics, though it was implied by the work of Plato 
and Aristotle. It indicates that there is a standard by which truth is 
to be adjudged or measured. The demand for such a criterion may 
be made in a sceptical spirit in which it appears to deny the possibility 
of truth. If this is its meaning it destroys itself, as the denial of any 
and all truth whatever is self-contradictory. This position has itself 
to be true in order to make the qviestion or doubt rational. This is the 
simple answer to universal scepticism, which by the very nature of the 
case is impossible. But while Pyrrhonism is impossible it is equally 
certain that we cannot say that all conceptions and opinions are true. 
That is, between universal affirmation and universal denial neither is 
true, but that the truth lies somewhere intermediate. To distinguish, 
therefore, what is concretely true, or what is true in individual cases, 
requires what may be called a criterion or evidence. This is to say 
that any statement made cannot stand on its own basis, unless it is 
what is called a self-evident truth, and consequently what does not 
evince its own validity must have some other fact than itself to secure 
its acceptance. This, then, is \vhat is meant when we demand a cri- 
terion of truth. The abstract form of statement has the unfortunate 
implication that a criterion must be had for absolutely all truth, but 
the impossibility of universal doubt, on the one hand, and the exist- 
ence of self-evident propositions on the other, show that the demand 
for criteria has its limitations. These limitations circumscribe the 
area between possible and necessary truth, and so define those cases 
whose enunciation does not carry with them their own credentials. 

But there is no single simple criterion of truth because there is no 
single truth. Truths are too manifold in number and kind to be deter- 
minable by any simple standard. Each class of truths has its own cri- 
teria or credentials, even if the ultimate source of certitude in all 

17S 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 1 79 

cases is one. This is because the term " truth" applies to beliefs as 
well as knowledge, to the credible, rational and probable as well as 
the certain. The field, therefore, over which criteria have to be 
applied becomes very large, and this is made all the more apparent 
when we recognize that in the application of the conception of criteria 
the distinction between mediate and immediate "knowledge" has to 
be drawn and each type of " knowledge" considered in its own way. 
The term itself, whatever else it implies, embodies all the functions 
supplied in the ideas of evidence and proof. It represents whatever 
will guarantee the truth of a statement other than its assertion, and is 
often also identified with the process which guarantees a self-evident 
truth. In the strict sense of the term, however, "criterion" must 
represent a " mark," fact or incident which will be a universal test of 
what would appear doubtful without its presence. It is this equivo- 
cation in its meaning, varying in nature according to the field in which 
it is applied that makes it necessary to analyze the problem. But the 
first distinction to be observed in the attempt to ascertain the criteria 
of truth is that between mediate and immediate "knowledge." Mediate 
"knowledge" or truth will have to recognize a distinction between 
certitude and probability which involves the difference of criteria in 
deduction and induction. Then in any case it will be necessary to dis- 
tinguish between primary and secondary, or ultimate and derived truth 
in the application of criteria. This last distinction coincides with that 
between immediate and mediate " knowledge" and so must be treated 
as one and the same problem. We have, then, as our primary dis- 
tinction that between mediate or derived and immediate or ultimate 
truth. Following this comes the distinction between the two types of 
derived or mediate "knowledge," and this gives rise to that between 
Logic and Scientific Method, as subdivisions of ratiocinative methods, 
the first being the name for \}ae. fonnal and the second for the material 
criteria of " knowledge." Consequently the three criteria of truth 
which invite discussion are " Intuition," " experience," or any assumed 
process of immediate " perception," Logic, and Scientific Method. 

It would appear that these ought to be examined in their order as 
stated, proceeding from the simpler to the more complex. But there 
are reasons in the general problem of " knowledge" for taking them 
up in a different order. The fact that scepticism can variously raise 
questions about the finality of ratiocination in the determination of 
truth and thus convert the whole question into the validity of what 
must itself determine the results of reasoning requires us to examine 
this process of ratiocination and its relation to the determination of truth 



I So THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

as the first step in answering the query put by the doubter. Conse- 
quently I think it best to discuss first the nature and functions of Logic 
in the determination of •' knowledge " and ascertain where we have to 
look for the ultimate test of truth, and consequently the means for a 
final reply to scepticism. 

I. Logic. 

There has been such a -wide divergence of opinion as to the nature 
of Logic that it will be necessary to examine its history and to define 
it somewhat carefully. This diversity of conception is indicated very 
clearly in the statement of Adamson, who, after giving a list of logi- 
cians, remarks that " in tone, in method, in aim, in fundamental prin- 
ciples, in extent of field, they diverge so widely as to appear, not so 
many different expositions of the same science, but so many different 
sciences." This is unquestionably a fact, and a regrettable fact, as 
it shows an equivocal conception of the subject which prevents all 
clear thinking until some agreement is found in the proper functions 
of the science or conception of the term that ^vill enable us to make 
any progress in the discussion of intellectual problems. 

The reader will remember that, in the classification of the sciences, 
I treated Logic merely as a department of Epistemology, namely as 
that which deals wdth the ratiocinative processes, while the other 
departments of Epistemology were represented in Apprehension and 
Cognition with their various fields. I shall continue so to treat it and 
not to regard it as in any proper sense a substitute or synonym for 
Epistemology. I shall limit it to the science of reasoning, the laws 
of thought as ratiocinative. But the determination of its function in 
the acquisition or verification of truth can be effected only by an 
examination of some historical conceptions. 

Aristotle's Organon was a combination of Epistemology and the 
science of Formal Logic. It arose out of the situation which evoked 
the dialogues of Plato, who was inspired by the desire to overthrow 
the doctrine of scepticism as he found it in the Sophists. Plato laid 
down no rules for governing human thought. He simply reasoned 
and did not reach the stage of development in which some definite 
criteria of " knowledge" should be formulated. Aristotle saw that it 
was necessary to systematize the processes which Plato had used and 
his Organon was the consequence. The fact that the whole svstem 
was evoked by the necessity of answering scepticism gave the subject 
an epistemological coloring, though it is noticeable, and is perhaps 
remarkable, that preliminary psychological analysis of elementars^ 
mental processes does not enter into his conception of the problem. 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 151 

The consequence is that the logical outcome of the system, in spite of 
its epistemological coloring and aim, finally develops into formal 
Logic alone. But as Aristotle conceived the Organon it was an in- 
strument in the acquisition of material truth as well as a formal 
science, the distinction not then being so clearly drawn as now. The 
simple reason for this tendency to develop into a purely formal science 
was twofold. First, the Greek reflective consciousness had no con- 
fidence in sense perception. It was the discovery of its illusory nature 
that illicited all attempts to vindicate belief and "knowledge." In 
admitting that sense covdd not determine truth the Greek could only 
confide in reasoning, Logos. Second, the Christian system abandoned 
all study of external nature and so was not interested in phenomena 
that required inductive methods, with the special emphasis upon the 
observation of facts which necessitated at least some respect for sense 
perception. Its v\^orld was a transcendental one beyond sense and 
when it came to seek a justification of its doctrines it had no alterna- 
tive to the use of the Greek Organon of " knowledge," and in using 
the Aristotelian Logic it naturally made a formal science of it. The 
scholastic period, therefore, developed Logic as a formal science to its 
highest degree of perfection. It will thus be seen that the Greek dis- 
trusted sense for one reason and Christianity distrusted it for another. 
The Greek considered it incapable of determining the truth about the 
physical world and the Christian distrusted it because it gave no in- 
formation about his spiritual world that transcended all " knowledge" 
and was an object of faith. Both, however, accepted supersensible 
sources of belief, the Greek making it reason which gave a supersen- 
sible physical world and the Christian making it at first, and perhaps 
always, faith, giving both a supersensible and a superphysical world, 
or what may be called a supersensible spiritual world. In time, how- 
•ever, when he felt obliged to make his peace with philosophy, he 
.accepted the criterion of reason in the justification of his faith and so 
was obliged to utilize the Aristotelian Logic as his method, and hav- 
ing disregarded the study of facts he could only attempt to deduce his 
doctrines from existing and accepted conceptions whose origin he did 
not investigate. 

It was the influence of Kant's Critique that converted the concep- 
tion of Logic back again into that of Epistemology. It is clear that 
he had embodied many of the scholastic ideas in his conception of 
Logic, especially as observable in the outlines of it taken from his 
lectures. But as he developed no elaborate system of formal Logic 
the conceptions of the Critique overshadowed what might have other- 



l82 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

wise been a distinction between the problems of " knowledge " in 
their widest import and the narrower field of formal Logic or ratio- 
cinative processes. The consequence has been that German treatises 
of Logic simply cover the whole province of the theor}' of " knowl- 
edge," and reasoning is a section of it which does not always receive 
any technical name, except as that of Logic is appropriated for it in 
obedience to a traditional conception of it much narrower than the 
wider import determining the province of Epistemology. I cannot 
but think this a confusing tendency, because, however we may ulti- 
mately find that the psychological process in reasoning is the same as 
in Apprehension and Cognition, the content of " knowledge" is so 
different in various cases, so complex in some as compared with others^ 
that this difference of matter has to be taken as the basis of distinctions 
which cannot be drawn in processes. Epistemology deals as much. 
with the primary psychological activities as with the secondary' and 
ratiocinative, that is, with what are usually called the simple as well 
as the complex, and whether we regard this simplicity and complexity 
as subjective or objective it is certain that the content of ' ' knoAvledge " 
is often more complex in certain instances than others and that this 
distinction of simplicity and complexity of content gives rise to names 
for different sciences or supposed processes for dealing with the prob- 
lems so defined. Consequently, when we have the term Epistemology 
as a general name for the science of " knowledge " at large, it would 
be better to retain that of Logic for the particular and quite large field 
of ratiocination, considered as the combination of a process with cer- 
tain complex data of thought, \vhich has its own peculiar laAvs and 
difficulties, though all the while treating it as a department of the 
general subject. The special reason for this separation of the questions 
is the fact that the criteria of " knowledge" in reasoning are quite dif- 
ferent, in so far as they are objective, from those in the so called primary 
processes of " knowledge," Now as reasoning is not the primary 
process in the origin of material " knowledge" it must be treated as a 
formal process of some kind and the science limited to it must be con- 
sidered a formal science. This is the general conception wdiich I 
mean to take of it. It is the most general conception of English 
thinkers and, of course, has its origin in the adoption of the scholastic 
conception of the subject, though in so far as Kantian philosophy has 
influenced the English mind we see a corresponding tendency to con- 
fuse the wider questions of Epistemolog}' with the narrower ones of 
the traditional Logic by using the term " Logic" and discussing under 
its cover problems which at one time were not considered as " logical "■ 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. I S3 

at all. I should have no objections to the change in the meaning of 
the term, if proper definition and analysis accompanied it. But the 
necessary distinction of problems, as suggested by the distinction 
between mediate and immediate " knowledge," in my opinion neces- 
sitates a corresponding distinction of sciences, even if one is made a 
department of Epistemology. On this account, I must regard Sir 
William Hamilton as having given the best conception of Logic in 
modern times, as he most clearly distinguishes between the general 
problem of " knowledge " and the ratiocinative process, assigning the 
latter no function in material truth. I am w^illing also to say, at the 
cost of challenging the contemptuous spirit with which Hamilton is 
generally treated by Kantians generally, that Hamilton has produced 
the most thorough analysis of the whole problem of "knowledge" 
and Logic since Aristotle, not excepting Thomas Aquinas and the 
scholastic philosophers generally. Kant made no analysis at all. He 
could only divide everything into " empirical " and " transcendental " 
without either illustration or clear exposition. But Hamilton in his 
notes to Reid especially has analyzed the whole field of " knowledge" 
and Logic in a way to leave little more to be done. His solution of 
the problem is another matter. I have no estimate to make of that, as 
I am not concerned with either its correctness or incorrectness, for the 
reason that I shall not complicate the theory of " knowledge" which 
I am presenting with any prejudices that exist for or against any system 
of philosophy. But I do recognize Hamilton's conception of formal 
Logic as the one best calculated to develop the real criteria of truth 
outside the sphere of reasoning which has always been the essential 
characteristic of the science of Logic. The various problems of human 
thought ought not to be jumbled together under a single term when it 
is necessary to distinguish between separate aspects of them. When 
we are limiting our consideration to some common characteristic of a 
number of problems we may rightly, enough employ a single term to 
cover them. But when it is necessary to subdivide a general problem 
into several distinct types with differential characteristics it is equally 
necessary that we should have the technical terms to denote the specific 
field of investigation and not to confuse terms which should be kept 
distinct. It is, however, wholly a matter of definition and this gives 
considerable liberty to the investigator, but this definition is a neces- 
sity, if he does not wish to be exposed to criticism for errors arising 
out of departures from current and traditional uses of the same terms. 
A definition of terms and the consistent ajDplication of them, without 
implying any necessary contradiction with doctrines founded on differ- 



184 HIE PliOBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ent definitions, entitles any man to any liberty he may wish to enjoy 
and he must be judged by the internal consistency of his system, inde- 
pendently of the question of propriety in the alteration of current and 
traditional meanings of the same terms. 

These considerations and the development of Logic after Aristotle 
justify me, I think, in defining Logic as a formal science of ratiocination, 
as the best way to assign it a meaning definite enough to enforce the 
distinction which must be maintained between intuitive and ratiocina- 
tive objects of " knowledge," and so to technicalize, so to speak, that 
department of Epistemology which is subordinate to the primary and 
ultimate problems of " knowledge." The importance of so doing will 
be apparent in further discussion. 

i While I might, therefore, adopt the definition of Logic, that it is the 
science of the formal laws of thought, as those do who treat it as I 
have here conceived it, I shall describe it in more specific terms after 
admitting that this definition properly indicates its object, namely, the 
determination of the laws and conditions under which correct thinking 
is possible. But this definition does not explicitly indicate the function 
which ratiocination performs in the problem of " knowledge," and it is 
this function on which I wish to lay the emphasis of present consider- 
ation. Consequently I shall describe ratiocination, thus further expli-- 
eating its usual definition, as the vehicular ag-ency or medium for the 
transmission oJ~ conviction^ not for the origin of it ; the tra7ismission 
of certitude ill deduction and of probability i7i indziction. This, I 
shall maintain, is the sole function of ratiocination in the problem of 
" knowledge," and in no respect can it be treated as the source from 
which any real content in " knowledge" is derived. I have explained 
earlier that there are two distinct meanings attached to the term 
" knowledge," one that of certitude and the other systematization of 
content in " experience." Ratiocination can do no more than transfer 
conviction from one content to another which does not evince its own 
acceptability without the unification effected by the apperceptive process 
at the basis of reasoning. How this is brought about will be indicated 
further on. All that I wish to assume now is the fact that the function 
of ratiocination is the transfer of conviction and nothing more, directly 
or primarilv and intentionally. 

This contention can be illustrated and proved by a brief examina- 
tion of the syllogism. I take deduction as the best type for the pur- 
pose. We have always been accustomed to hear that the conclusion is 
contained in the premises. Taking this as the true representation, 
which I think no one will dispute, it will be apparent that the accep- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 1 85 

tance of the conclusion, assuming that neither formal nor material falla- 
cies have been committed, depends wholly upon the acceptance of the 
premises. Fallacies do not show the falsity of the " conclusion " as a 
proposition, but only the illegitimacy of the process of inference. Both 
of these statements are the truisms of Logic. But as it is the truth of 
the proposition in the conclusion in wdaich we are really interested, we 
forget what it is that has determined it for us in the act of drawing it. 
It is the accepted truth of the premises, not the fact of inclusion. This 
will be evident by stating the following accepted facts in Logic. 

If the premises are false and the reasoning correct the conclusion 
will be false. If the premises are uncertain and the reasoning correct 
the conclusion will be uncertain. If I know nothing about the premises 
and the reasoning is correct I shall know nothing about the conclusion. 
If tlije premises are true and the reasoning is correct the conclusion will 
be true. In all cases where the mental attitude toward the conclusion 
is at all affected by the ratiocination, or apparently so affected, it is 
wholly dependent on the premises, and consequently upon the convic- 
tion felt in the premises. No certitude is felt in the conclusion when it 
is not felt in the premises, and hence the conviction felt or increased, if 
in the conclusion, is simply what is transferred from the premises, how- 
ever they have been obtained. No new " kno^vledge," as content, is 
discovered, but only a relation not explicit before, while the conviction 
is derived from convictions already existent. 

But where do the convictions regarding the premises arise ? Are 
they also ratiocinatively determined? The answer is that they may be 
in particular instances, but this is not ultimately the case. The syllo- 
gism cannot indefinitely prove its premises. Strictly speaking no syl- 
logism can prove its own premises, and the deductive process can not 
be carried on ad infinitum without leaving all conclusions in entire 
suspense. Consequently if we ever have any certain conviction regard- 
ing the premises ultimately, it must be derived by a non-ratiocinative 
process. The ultimate test of truth, therefore, lies in w^hat antedates 
reasoning, which cannot originate, but only derive certitude or prob- 
ability. I could illustrate the same facts in the process of induction 
where we have probability as the result instead of certitude. But the 
reader can do this for himself as I care only for the general principle. 

A comment on Mill's theory of deduction is a natural corollary of 
the remark above that all conviction, certitude or probability, is ulti- 
mately obtained by non-ratiocinative functions and only transferred by 
these, that is, antecedes reasoning. It will be remembered that Mill 
depreciated deduction and subordinated it entirely to induction, main- 



1 86 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

taining that the premises of deduction were derived Ijy induction. The 
fatality of this for any certain truth whatever by ratiocinative processes 
is self evident. No one can claim any certitude for the inductive process, 
and if it supplies the j^remises of deduction we have no material certi- 
tude to start with and can obtain none in the end. Besides Mill relied 
upon deductive reasoning to prove his case ! The contradiction of this 
with his system is apparent. Of course, when analyzed, his conception 
of inductions turns out to be more than a ratiocinative process, and in- 
cludes " experience," observation, etc. He ought to have seen that any 
such conception forbade its comparison with deduction which definitely 
contained nothing more than ratiocination, and if induction is to be con- 
trasted with it clearly it must also represent nothing more than that 
process in a modified form. What Mill should have observed is the 
fact that non- ratiocinative functions antecede and condition the premises 
of both induction and deduction in the last analysis. This will be 
alluded to again probably in the discussion of scientific method. All 
that I wish to enforce at present is the fact that Mill's position when 
examined, analyzed and developed terminates in the doctrine here 
defended, namely, that reasoning is not the origin of conviction but the 
transfer of it. 

But how is this affected ? What are the conditions of this trans- 
fer ? The simple reply to this question is that all ratiocination is based 
upon the principle of identity. This is evinced in the character of the 
middle term. The principle of causality never determines it. Propo- 
sitions involving the conception of causality may constitute at least a 
part of the material content of ratiocinative argument, but the princi- 
ple of causality does not serve as the basis upon which the syllogistic 
process is founded. It is noticeable even that both premises cannot 
consist of causative or intensive propositions at the same time. At least 
one of them must be extensive, so as to insure the use of the principle 
of identity in the middle term. This identity, under certain conditions, 
guarantees the transfer of the conviction felt in the premises to the 
conclusion. These conditions are the criteria for determining it when 
this identity applies in a w\iy to justify the conclusion. Quantity is 
this test. Identity is the fundamental condition and quantity is the 
test of the extent of this identity. That is, the quantification of terms 
in some definite and explicit form is the " objective " test of the iden- 
tity necessary to draw the conclusion, if I may use the term " objective " 
in the Kantian sense of " true for others " as well as for the subject. 
I refer, of course, to the doctrine of the distribution of terms. But 
what I wish more especially to remark about it is its necessity and the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 1 8/ 

reason for it in the determination of the conclusion. When the sub- 
ject or reasoner sees the identity expressed in the middle term, it may 
not be necessary to consider quantity, but when we wish to make this 
inclusion or identity clear to others it is necessary to definitely quantify 
our terms. This is shown clearly in the case of undistributed middle, 
where there is no conclusive evidence that the minor premise is in- 
cluded in the major unless the major exhausts the field of conception 
in which the minor must be found. The identity may be there and 
would have to be seen by the person to be converted, but the only secure 
test of the identity when it is not explicitly perceived is that quan- 
tification which makes it impossible that both propositions should be 
true without the inclusion of the minor in the major. The distribution 
is the test of this, and insures the validity of the inference, other things 
being equal. 

The manner in which quantification affects the question is apparent 
in the fact that it is the extension of concepts that determines their 
numerical capacity. A term or concept taken intensively is abstract, as 
the intension in general concepts does not denote the whole of any in- 
dividual to which the term applies, but only the conferential or com- 
mon property or quality. But the extension indicates the individual 
wholes denoted by the concept and when this is explicitly quantified in 
definite terms we know that the predicate is affirmed or denied of every 
individual in the class. The general proposition does not indicate 
explicitly whether we are referring to the whole or a large part of the 
class and hence there is no criterion as to our definite meaning in our 
statements so made. Whether the inclusion of the minor premise 
can be assumed is not made clear unless the major is explicitly univer- 
sal, say in the first figure, and the consequence is that no proof is pos- 
sible to him demanding it. Thus if I say, ' Religion is humanizing,' 
' Government is useful,' or ' Pine v\^ood is good for lumber,' I use 
propositions which are abstract and perhaps general, in which I may 
be thinking of a certain characteristic of ideal religion or government 
and of pine wood as a substance rather than their concrete forms, and 
consequently my statement does not explicitly indicate that I am thinking 
of the individual instances as wholes. They are useless for ratiocina- 
tion since they give rise to some fallacy of accident. The only w^ay to 
avoid this " objectively" is to explicitly quantify our terms and in this 
way we definitely construe our propositions in their extension and con- 
cretely. The limits of our statement are definitely assigned in so far as 
the included assertions are concerned and the reasoning becomes pos- 
sible. The identity and inclusion are explicitly indicated by the process. 



165 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The best illustration of this condition of reasoning, whether explicit 
or implicit, is in mathematics. The quality or inequality existing be- 
tween subject and predicate is always indicated in mathematical propo- 
sitions and this assures reasoning without fallacy. The predicate is 
explicitly quantified as well as the subject and the consequence is that 
the moods and figures can be dismissed from view in the reasoning. 
It is merely a question of quantitative as well as qualitative identity 
between terms, and when this is definitel}- indicated we have in math- 
ematics the simplest form of reasoning and one in which the expo- 
sure to fallacy is the least possible. It is in this respect that I regard 
Hamilton's doctrine of the quantification of the predicate as correct, 
and as the necessary consequence of recognizing quantity in ratiocina- 
tion at all. I do not regard it as of any specially practical use, but as 
necessary in the correct theory of reasoning. The rules for the svllo- 
gism have been developed from the observation of what was necessary 
in the actual use of language and the most frequent forms of reason- 
ing. This is quite apparent in Aristotle's whole treatment of the sub- 
ject. He has observed that universal affirmative propositions could 
not be converted simply and at the same time he recognized that in 
reasoning the subject in one case at least had to be distributed. But as 
he did not detect that it was this definite quantification that determined 
the right of inference formally, he also did not see that theoretically the 
predicate might be similarly quantified definitely. Simply because 
it was not quantified in fact in some propositions he did not dis- 
cover what was theoretically correct and important. Language is in- 
fluenced by aesthetic and economic considerations as well as logical, 
and economizes the concessions to logic all it can. As nearly all our 
ordinary reasoning is done in the first figure of the syllogism, it is 
not necessary practically to recognize distribution or explicit quantifi- 
cation in all our terms, as it is not needed in the predicate in such 
cases. Consequently, economy and esthetics, that is, rhetorical con- 
siderations, lead to the omission of all definite and explicit quantifica- 
tion of the predicate. Aristotle did not see this and hence, as he was 
extracting his rules from practice rather than discovering the reason 
for the rules, he failed to see that theoretically the quantification of the 
predicate was just as essential as that of the subject. Consequently I 
I think that Hamilton exhibited the correct conception of the theor}' of 
the syllogism when seeking to indicate the criterion of its " objective " 
forcefulness. It explained in his doctrine the nature of mathemat- 
ical reasoning and show^s how it is so secure against fallacy and why the 
ordinarv reasoning of everv dav conversation is exposed to difficulties 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 189 

by the variation from this model, and exposes the Hability to error 
precisely in proportion to that variation. 

I have referred to this quantification of the predicate for tw^o reasons. 
The first is that it is the necessary consequence of admitting the princi- 
ple of quantity at all into the doctrine of the syllogism. The second is 
that the implication of both mediate and immediate processes of 
reasoning that follows from the doctrine is the best illustration of the 
function which quantification has in ratiocination. This is that quantity 
is the securest test of the identity so necessary as a condition of inference, 
as is proved by the consequence of attempting to reason with four terms. 
Definiteness is the first requisite of clear ratiocination and quantity se- 
cures this characteristic and, if it be assumed to be unnecessary in sub- 
jective inference, it is certainly the clearest way to avoid indefiniteness 
and equivocation in "objective" ratiocination, as the actual develop- 
ment of language shows. The combination of quantity and quality in 
the identity has the effect of a double criterion for the meaning of our 
propositions and their relation to each other and allows no excuse for 
misunderstanding. The transfer of conviction becomes inevitable in 
such a case. The general identity between the minor and major terms 
might be admitted without the quantification expressing or necessitating 
inclusion, but there would be no evidence without this quantification, 
explicit or implicit, that they were related in the specific characteristic 
which it is the purpose of the syllogism in the case to prove. 

This view of the value and function of definite quantification of term 
and its relation to certitude in deductive reasoning is reinforced by the 
failure of induction to achieve this result. In deduction we have the 
conclusion contained in the premises, so that quantitatively we remain 
within the area of our conceptions. But in induction this is not the 
case. The conclusion extends beyond the premises and gives universals 
which are not quantitatively included in the premises. Either our mid- 
dle term is not distributed in the inductive syllogism or the minor and 
major terms may be distributed in the conclusion when not distributed 
in the premises. This increase of quantity, taken with the fact that 
objects not merely mathematical, that is, units of time and space, are 
qualitatively variable with a numerical increase of individuation, shows 
with what suspense of certitude we have to draw our inductive infer- 
ences. The identity expressed by the premises is only partial, or the 
absence of definite quantification of terms expressing inclusion, leaves 
the identity indefinitely determined and so the conclusion can have only 
that probability which is suggested by the amount of evidence involved 
and that is indicated by the numerical extent of the individuals included 



190 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

in the data of the premises, a fact not definitely expressed without ex- 
plicit statement. The absence of the quantification that effectually in- 
sures certitude in deduction simply shows what function is performed 
by that condition, while induction gets its character solely because that 
quantification is absent from the premises, and the conclusion appears 
not to be " proved " because the quantification there is expressed when 
it is not in the premises. We can then see why the sceptic will often 
say to a man who is reasoning inductively, whether consciously or un- 
consciously, without explicitly indicating the fact, that his argument 
does not " prove " his assertion. There is the recognition that the 
conclusion is not contained quantitatively in the premises and that dis- 
qualifies " proof." If the defendant could retort that he was only 
arguing inductively the objection, that the case was not " proved," 
would have no relevancy, as the reply should be inductive, unless the 
inductive inference made at first was contradicted by a well known fact. 
I have alluded to " subjective" and " objective" reasoning in the 
discussion above and now this requires some explanation. What I 
wish to call attention to is a double function performed by ratiocination. 
Some might call it two different processes, but it may as well be called 
a double function. I express this by the distinction between inference 
and proof or argument. I mean that inference shall express the dis- 
covery of the conclusion from the premises which has for its object the 
enlightenment of the subject. Proof or argument means that the con- 
clusion is known or announced and that the premises must be found 
for convincing another than the subject. In this case the inference or 
reasoning subjectively considered must be done by the person or sub- 
ject to whom the proof is presented. This has already been done by 
the person who presents the argument. I can describe them as pro- 
gressive and regressive reasoning, according as the conclusion is dis- 
covered from the premises or the premises discovered for proof of the 
conclusion. In the latter case the conviction regarding the con- 
clusion is not transferred, but is already in existence, having been 
transmitted by some previous reasoning or discovered by some other 
process. But in the former case the conviction is communicated to 
another subject, this subject having to accept the reasoning to obtain 
conviction when it does not evince itself by the mere enunciation of the 
proposition to be proved. This communication of conviction from 
subject to subject is one of the most important functions of ratiocina- 
tion. It is, in fact, the chief instrument for the distribution of 
*' knowledge" and assumes that it has already been discovered, 
whether by " experience" or other reasoning, so that it appears to be 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 191 

a social function for the communication of truth rather than the dis- 
covery of it when we come to admit that ultimately the acquisition of 
" knowledge " is non-ratiocinative. The process of reasoning or proof, 
as the communicator of conviction, may be either ad ho77imem or ad 
rem. In either case its function is to establish agreement between 
individuals, not to discover " knowledge" as content. The "percep- 
tion " or discovery must be made by the subject in all instances. The 
proof by ratiocination is only a substitute for force or the struggle for 
existence. It is in the intellectual world what private contract is in 
the political and represents a method of obtaining voluntary adjustment 
to social conditions instead of mere obedience under police regulations. 
It is an objective unifier of consciousness which leads to an automatic 
unifier of wills in civilization. In human life we have either to fight 
or reason. We must conquer our neighbors either by force or by 
reason ; that is, let them conquer themselves by accepting the cogency 
of an argument. Wherever there is any love of truth this latter course 
is possible, but where the desire for consistency and truth does not 
exist there can be only a conflict of wills and its consequences. Bar- 
barism and civilization are the two things between which we have to 
choose, and it will be one or the other that we obtain, according to our 
adoption of force or reason, as the means of securing the coordination 
of the social will. 

Now quantity is the criterion of w^hat we can make effective in an 
argument. We cannot argue in general and abstract terms. Our 
propositions must be definite, and definiteness can be enforced only by 
the most explicit quantification of conceptions. In such conditions 
scepticism must either accept or deny the premises. It cannot display 
indifference to the truth or error of them and cry non sequitur so 
easily, but must define its demands at once or accept at least the pre- 
sumptions against itself. This means that quantification of terms 
makes the issue clear and establishes the limits within which the proof 
must be conducted. But while it is the measure of the extent to which 
the principle of identity is applied and the indispensable condition to 
the enforcement of the conclusion and its acceptance by others, it does 
not originate any new truth nor do anything else except transfer the 
conviction held in the premises to the conclusion established by it when 
that conclusion does not evince its own truth. The results of the dis- 
cussion may be summarized as follows : 

(«) Qiiantity is the final test of escape from formal fallacy in rea- 
soning and is thus a negative criterion of ratiocinative truth or the con- 
viction, certitude or probability, transmitted by it. 



192 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

{b) Proof or regressive ratiocination is not a criterion of truth to 
the subject but a social instrument for its communication or the trans- 
fer of conviction to another subject, and thus becomes merely an 
agent in producing consentaneous consciousness while the material 
truth of the judgments concerned must be subject to some other final 
test. 

(c) All ratiocination is merely a means for transferring conviction 
and not originating it. It may be treated as an important criterion of 
truth in this respect, but not in any other sense. The conception of 
it as a determinant of truth arises from its function to displace doubt 
in regard to the conclusion involved, but it does not prevent scepticism 
of the premises and so is not the test of truth that the theory of 
" knowledge" requires. 

(fl^) As ratiocination is not the ultimate criterion of truth some 
antecedent function must be sought to determine this. Exclusive 
dependence on reasoning tends toward dogmatism and authority, and 
since the premises are always formally open to scepticism and the ulti- 
mate test must be non-ratiocinative, the one fundamental consideration 
in the w^hole problem of "knowledge" is that the subject can7iot 
escape personal responsibility for seemg the truth himself. This 
is apparent even in ratiocination when it is properly examined, though 
the fact is concealed by the habit of accrediting the reasoner with the 
result of imparting conviction. Unless the subject to whom the rea- 
soning is presented " sees" the relation and identity involved between 
premises and conclusion, the perception of truth escapes and no con- 
viction is imparted. Consequently the primary test of truth in all 
cases is the subject's own " perception " of it and not the external 
characteristics and methods necessary for communicating it and trans- 
mitting conviction. 

II. Immediate Coxsciousxess. 
We have found that ratiocination in its regressive form has an 
" objective " or social value and comes to be recognized as the main 
process in the supposed credentials of " knowledge " because of the im- 
portance of its use in the concensus of opinion which is often taken 
for " knowledge." But the analysis of the process subjectively and 
the fact that its social utilitv concealed the primary source of the con- 
viction which it transmits brought us to the conclusion that the ulti- 
mate source of " knowledge " was non-ratiocinative and that the sub- 
ject could not escape responsibility for personal insight. This is 
simply to say that we are not obliged ultimately to answer all the ques- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 193 

tions that the sceptic may raise, if they simply repeat his doubt about 
each premise assvmied to answer any given demand for proof. The 
fact that the syllogism cannot prove its ovs^n premises, that ultimately 
we have to determine the premises by a non-ratiocinative process, 
and that the sceptic so far accepts " perception " or insight as to admit 
the cogency of the reasoning when formal objections to it cannot be 
presented, are proofs that ultimately he must accept that criterion, if 
criterion it be, for such " knowledge " as is given in that way, and the 
existence of any " knowledge " at all is a presumption for its possibility 
in other directions, if satisfactory credentials can be produced to show 
that it does not limit itself to immediate " perception." 

I have taken the terms " immediate consciousness" to denote the 
general class of non-ratiocinative processes in the determination of 
" knowledge." They have variously been called " intuition," " experi- 
ence," "immediate perception," " attultion," etc. I have compre- 
hended what is intended by these conceptions in the term Apprehen- 
sion. I also intend to include in the acts of immediate consciousness 
all the processes of Cognition or Synthetic Apprehension. I have 
called them acts of Judgment, but regard them as immediate rather 
than mediate acts of mind. I do not include the acts of generalization 
or universalization of judgments. This I shall consider in its place. 
Here I am treating of the primary acts connected with and possessing 
only an immediate content for consciousness not anticipating " experi- 
ence " in the future. That is to say, I am trying to ascertain the 
elementary data and processes which determine the first accepted 
"knowledge," and if possible that "knowledge" which is proof 
against scepticism and which either has a satisfactory criterion or does 
not require it for assuring its validity. I shall term these acts in gen- 
eral Immediate Consciousness. This is nothing moi'e than the cogito 
erg-o sum of Descartes. I need not expand it. It is too generally ac- 
cepted as the ultimate source of elementary "knowledge" to be dis- 
cussed. But I shall briefly examine its subdivisions as I have indi- 
cated them. 

I. Apprehension. — Apprehension gives us the simplest datum o£ 
" knowledge." Some will say that it gives us no " knowledge " at all.. 
But this is a mere matter of definition. If " knowledge " invariably 
means synthesis or synthetic content, I should at once agree that 
apprehension gives no " knowledge." But while we are always 
privileged to give what definition we please to our terms, we cannot, 
on the basis of our own definitions, condemn systems with different 
definitions. We should have to ignore them or allow them as much 

13 



194 1'^^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

right as our own, if consistently developed. Besides the history of 
philosophy shows that there is no monopoly of the conception of 
■" knowledge." I have already shown that one of its fundamental 
ideas is certitude. This is the conception of it as applied to certain 
doctrines which scepticism takes of it, though denying the possibility 
of it in these supposed cases. Such are the existence of God, of the 
soul, of immortality, of the nature of the external world, etc. Scep- 
ticism never doubts the fact of synthesis, but the validity of alleged 
realities at the basis of phenomena and synthesis. All the explanations 
in the world of synthesis are no answer to scepticism, but simply 
evasions of the issue. Hence when we pretend to refute scepticism we 
are trying to vindicate some belief or certitude as to fact and " reality," 
so that we cannot evade the consideration of the term " knowledge" 
as expressive of certitude in our reply to scepticism and agnosticism 
claiming its impossibility in certain concrete instances. It may be 
true that the term is also used in certain other relations to express syn- 
thesis, and I agree that it is. But this fact is a reason for separating 
its two meanings and dealing with correspondingly distinct problems 
rather than ignoring or denying one of the two historical imports of 
the term. 

I am concerned, therefore, at present with the question whether 
scepticism can apply to absolutely all phenomena and beliefs. Is there 
any datvuii that can ser^-e both as a refutation of doubt and a basis for 
beliefs which scepticism is able to discredit, at least until thev can give 
a good account of themselves? The simple " knowledge" of appre- 
hension is an answer to this question. The simple states of conscious- 
ness, the apprehensions, are invulnerable and absolute "knowledge," 
if that expression can be used. There is no way to raise a doubt 
about them. Their relations are not an issue, but the question whether 
they are facts. If they were inferred we might consider a doubt about 
them, but they are not inferences. They are direct data of mind, facts 
or phenomena with which it comes into immediate contact, so to 
speak. They are such that " knowing" is " having," and no analysis 
of them into antecedent and itself as consequent is possible, or into a 
state and its implications. It may be true that in all adult " experience " 
no simple state appears in the form defined without concomitants, but 
this does not prevent our abstraction of the contingent elements of such 
a complex whole and indicating the irresolvable element of it. I am 
simply naming the datum and act ^vhich we recognize ^vhen we have 
abstracted all that can be thought as an associated content and that is 
commonly supposed to be an adjunct due to " experience," The ap- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 195 

prehensions are nothing more than the result of eliminating the syn- 
thetic elements contingently associated with any complex conception or 
state of consciousness and concentrating attention upon that primary 
fact or content which cannot be eliminated without annihilating the 
consciousness itself. This act and datum I treat as infallible, if that 
expression can be adopted without being misunderstood. It is sum- 
marized, as remarked above, in the cogito ergo stun of Descartes, 
which is simply the general term for the various concrete manifesta- 
tions indicated in sensation, self -consciousness, recognition, etc. The 
facts of consciousness are not subject to the court of scepticism. We 
may have all sorts of doubt or discussion as to what the facts of con- 
sciousness are, as to where the line shall be drawn between what are 
facts and w^hat are not facts of consciousness, but in all historical forms 
of scepticism enough has been admitted as fact of immediate con-, 
sciousness to determine the limits of that doctrine, and however men 
have quarreled about definitions at this point, they have agreed 
that the facts of consciousness are beyond dispute, though the limits 
of such facts are not always determined at the same point. For ex- 
ample, all would agree that sensation is a fact of consciousness, but 
not all would agree that the existence of an external " reality" corre- 
sponding to it was a fact of consciousness . When we know what the 
testiinony of consciousness is, it has to be accepted as final, and this 
qualifying statement, "when we know," does not imply that all men- 
tal states are subject to such an hypothetical qualification, but only that 
the limits of immediate " knowledge" are not always clearly defined 
in the history of opinion. As regards its own states the view has 
never been questioned. The dispute has been whether immediate 
"knowledge" was limited to subjective "phenomena," and none at 
all regarding the certitude of its own states and affections. 

In thus assigning certitude and finality to the facts of apprehension 
I am not conditioning its validity in any way by supposing that it 
applies only to the normal and sane subject. I intend that it shall be 
true of the insane as well as the sane. The elementary " knowledge " 
of the mind must be as acceptable in the case of the insane as the sane. 
The testimony of consciousness has to be accepted everywhere and in 
all conditions. This does not mean that all which claims to be such 
testimony must be accepted, but that when such testimony is once 
defined properly it is the final court of belief. Nor does it mean that 
any statement that an insane person makes about his feelings or experi- 
ences is to be accepted. What the insane person actually feels or 
experiences is, to any one else than himself, a matter of inductive 



196 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

investigation and not of immediate certitude to any one but himself. 
It is not his statements about himself that are acceptable or final, but 
only his actual states of consciousness. What they are may never be 
known by any one but himself. The same is true of the sane. It is 
not the sanity of any individual that guarantees the testimony of his 
consciousness, but the fact that he has the consciousness. His sanity 
protects his statements about it and nothing more. We can accept the 
statements of the normal and sane man more readily, but we know 
nothing more about his affections than we do of the insane. In all 
cases the subject alone is the direct witness of his experiences. What 
any one else than the subject feels or directly " knows," ^vhether sane 
or insane, is purely a matter for inductive inference. 

It may be contended that this position very much limits the area of 
positive and certain " knowledge," and I shall not contest the supposi- 
tion, as it is not my purpose to extend our assured "knowledge" 
beyond its legitimate boundaries. All that I am concerned with is the 
facts of the case and these assign as distinct limits to scepticism as to 
dogmatism. I regard universal scepticism as impossible as universal 
dogmatism, even though it be desirable. I do not regard either of 
them as desirable and I think that scepticism, when it is defined and 
rational, is quite as useful in civilization as belief. But it is itself 
defensible only when it can admit at least a modicum of positive 
" knowledge," which it must do to accept the legitimacy of formal 
ratiocination and even the assertion of universal doubt. As a fact the 
sceptic has usually admitted the existence of positive " knowledge" 
within the limits of " impressions," sensory " experience " and imme- 
diate consciousness, so that it is not necessary here to define the prob- 
lem in any but the sceptic's own terms to justify the functions here 
assigned to apprehension. The amount of positive "knowledge" 
obtained by it may be very small, but such as it is it is definitely 
assured, and a fulcrum is secured for the explanation and determina- 
tion of all complex conceptions involving the facts of apprehension as 
their basis. Dogmatism may have to yield as much as scepticism in 
the end. But I am not primarih- concerned with these questions 
beyond defining the elementary phenomena in the field of positive 
"knowledge" so far as its non-svnthetic character is concerned. 
Whether there is any other field of such conviction is not a matter of 
interest at present, and I am also willing to say, is not a matter of 
deduction from the acceptance of this primary " knowledge." 

There must be no misunderstanding as to the area of this positive 
"knowledge." I do not include in it the conceptions of external 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 1 97 

objects as we ordinarily assume. In fact such conceptions as ' trees,' 
' stones,' ' horses,' ' houses,' and much more such as ' substance,' 
' God,' ' cause,' are not the objects of apprehension. The " objects " 
of this process are far simpler. They are the facts of consciousness. 
These are all that can be apprehended. These are the first data of 
assured " knowledge." I do not say that they are the only things 
"known," but they are the only things properly apprehended in the 
technical sense of that term and as defined. My "knowledge," that 
is assured truth, may extend far beyond my mental states, but we do 
not apprehend anything more, as that is technically defined. If there 
are any functions of consciousness which can present other assured 
truth they remain still to be discussed, and whether also they are 
capable of delivering such "knowledge" when supposed to exist 
remains to be deterniined. But apprehension is circvunscribed by what 
we call the facts of consciousness. This suffices to show in the prob- 
lem of epistemology that there is one province in which certitude is 
possible, in which one fact or conception implicated in the term 
" knowledge" is certified and placed beyond the corrosive solvent of 
scepticism. With this conclusion I may turn to the next type of 
immediate " knowledge." 

2. Cognition. — I come now to treat of what I shall call the syn- 
thetic processes and products of " knowledge." Apprehension is not 
synthetic. It is a simple act with a simple object of consciousness. 
If I may adopt a barbarous expression very current in philosophy, it 
is identical with itself. But Cognition is complex or synthetic in that 
we have to take account of the mental state, and its meaning or impli- 
cation, if that last w^ord can be permitted. We begin in this act to 
recognize relations and to interpret phenomena. It is the rise of judg- 
ment, in fact is elementary judgment, as a previous chapter has ex- 
plained. Also as explained it comprehends three types, namely, Per- 
ception, Conperception, and Apperception. These I shall treat as the 
elementary and immediate judgments. I distinguish them from what 
must be regarded as mediate judgments. The immediate judgments 
of which I here speak are a combination of presentation or apprehen- 
sion and interpretation or the application of a category. These also I 
regard as giving certain " knowledge " beyond the attack of scepticism. 

But certitude is not the only fact involved in cognition. Appre- 
hension gives certitude as its main characteristic. It gives nothing 
else, however, as a mark of " knowledge." But cognition or judg- 
ment adds to this mark what I shall call " objectivity," externality, or 
an object of consciousness other than the presentation itself on which 



198 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

attention may be concentrated. That is to say the meaning of a given 
presentation or fact of consciousness is asserted and this meaning im- 
plies the existence of a correlate to the fact given by apprehension. 
In sensation it is the external " reality." In mentation it is the sub- 
ject. In "phenomena" it is the cause, or antecedent. In a relative 
it is the correlative fact. The meaning points to some fact beyond 
the present fact. Cognition interprets as well as apprehends. It as- 
sociates another content with the present fact, or involves synthesis 
which is this associative act. It is the process which gives '* knowl- 
edge " its transsubjective implication, its transphenomenal aspect, its 
import as expressed in the idea that " knowing " is more than " being " 
or " having " a state of consciousness. The fundamental question is 
whether consciousness does thus " transcend " itself. Can it " know " 
anything but its own states } 

In regard to the assumed possibility that consciousness " tran- 
scends " itself in " knowledge " of the interpreting or synthetic sort, 
as conceived by the realist, according to the idealist's notion of that 
doctrine, there is a curious illusion in the minds of most if not all 
idealists. This class of philosophers is perpetually reiterating state- 
ments which it supposes a realist cannot admit without intellectual 
suicide. This statement is variously expressed. " We cannot assert 
any universe except that which is an object of knowledge." " We 
cannot know anything except the object of consciousness." " We 
cannot know anything except in relation to consciousness." " Esse 
is percipi^" etc. 

Now these statements, so far from being important and conclusive 
of a particular system of philosophy, are so equivocal that nothing can 
be inferred from them without analysis and definition. They mav be 
treated as simple truisms, tautological propositions, in which subject 
and predicate are absolutely identical, in which case no philosophy 
whatever can be founded upon them. Synthetic propositions are 
the condition of implied truth. If " knowledge " be defined as the 
present state of the mind, as a functional activity limited to the space 
and time of the moment in which as an individual presentation 
occurs, that is to say, if "knowledge" means that the "knowing" 
act and the thing " known" are one and the same thing, then it is 
clear enough that ^ve cannot assert the existence of anything but what 
is an " object" of consciousness. But this " object" becomes the men- 
tal state itself and the existence of anvthing other than it, " outside" 
consciousness, not " in " consciousness, cannot be " known." I am not 
here using the term in any necessary sense of certitude, but of compass 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 1 99 

or content. But if it be of the very nature of " knowledge " as syn- 
thetic, as interpretative, as assigning meaning and necessary impHca- 
tion, that is, if "knowing" means that the object of consciousness 
may be something other than the state " knowing," then there is 
nothing to hinder the subject from asserting the existence of a 
" reality" whose existence does not depend on the act " knowing" it, 
though the assertion of this existence does depend on the " knowing." 
It is simply a question whether you shall define the " knowledge" in 
solipsistic terms, as the relativist of the Sophistic type does, or in terms 
of those who make judgment a process referring to facts other than 
the act effecting the reference. Consciousness is the ratio cogjioscendi^ 
not the ratio essendi of " reality," in the minds of all but the solip- 
sist and the sceptic of a certain type. The consequence is that the 
propositions which I have mentioned have only two possible interpre- 
tations. One is that the existence of " reality " is convertible ^vith the 
mental act which cognizes it, and the other is that this existence is not 
convertible by the mental state but only evidenced by it. The former 
conception limits " reality " to states of consciousness in the individual 
having them, and so limits " knowledge" to these. The latter admits 
that something may "transcend" consciousness as an object and so is 
neither created by the act of " knowing" nor identical with it in time 
and space. As I have already pointed out the idealist and realist 
are at one when we eliminate solipsism from the interpretation of 
the idealist's position, their further differenees being on the nattire of 
this " reality" other that the state " knowing " it rather than the exist- 
ence of it. 

Nov\^ in apprehension or presentation " knowing" and " being" are 
one and the same thing. The " object" and the act " knowing" it 
are the same. If we take this conception of the phenomenon of 
" knowledge " as the one to define our term, the " universe of knowl- 
edge " and the " universe of reality" are identical; that is, one and 
the same thing. No distinction of time and space can be made be- 
tween them. This is the position of the scepticism in Sophistic spec- 
ulation and the later Academy. But subsequent philosophy has altered 
its conception of the term " knowledge" without altering the phrase- 
ology which limited what is assertible to the subjective mental acts. 
It has come to make " knowledge" convertible with judgment rather 
than presentation and hence includes in it assertibility of something 
which is not the mental act itself, and yet tries to discredit realistic 
conceptions by repeating assertions which originated in a solipsistic 
doctrine, and get all their contradiction with realistic ideas from that 



2CX) THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

origin. But as we have come to assume that an essential element of 
" knowledge," at least of the synthetic type, \% judgTnent \\'\i\c\\ is cer- 
tainly not a presentation, but a positing assertory act of mind, we have 
a notion that implies the existence, or a belief in the existence, of 
something other than the state which is necessary for the " knowing." 
This is only to say that we have extended the meaning of the term to 
mean more in certain conditions than the presentation which was the 
solipsist's and sceptic's original limitatioi:i of the term. Consequently 
the opposition between the idealist and the realist, as I have already 
shown above, is nullified. 

There is another way to establish the same conclusion. When any 
realist or simple-minded man supposes or asserts that consciousness 
"transcends" itself in the act of "knowledge," "synthetic knowl- 
edge," the idealist who wants us to believe that he is putting a very 
profound question will ask him, '•How do you know tlais.^' If the 
answer is not clear and conclusive the questioner thinks that his case is 
won. But the fact is that this question should never be answered at 
all until its meaning is explained. It is not so clear a query as is usu- 
ally supposed. It is often put in the spirit of the sceptic, ^vho assumes 
that unless you can show him ' hoiv you know ' a thing you have no 
right to your belief in the fact asserted or supposed. Now this ques- 
tion is equivocal. It may mean that the interrogator is asking for 
explanation , or that he is asking for proof. The former may be rational 
and the latter may not. But its form covers the irrational question 
by the rational. If I am asking the explanatory question I am seeking 
the explanation of an admitted fact, the process or cause which will 
explain the fact. Now all that the man means \vho supposes that cog- 
nitive "knowledge" is transsubjective, is that it is a fact that con- 
sciousness so transcends itself and he does not care, so far as the 
validity of the fact is concerned, whether it is explicable or not. The 
failure to explain it will not discredit the fact. It simply indicates that 
it is not so intelligible as may be desired, but it is not questioned as a 
fact by the failure to assign its cause. On the other hand, if the ques- 
tion means that we must have proof, that the fact of the alleged trans- 
cendency of consciousness in cognitive judgment must be proved, ^ve 
mav answer that it cannot be proved, if we are so inclined. If cogni- 
tive judgment be defined as an immediate act of mind no proof is pos- 
sible. It is only mediate " knowledge" that is probative. It is Im- 
possible to "prove" immediate " knowledge," except that "proof" 
be convertible with the " experience," intuition, insight, personal re- 
alization in consciousness, of the subject himself. But ratiocinative 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 20I 

proof cannot be applied to what is definitely immediate. We may be 
wrong in so limiting cognition to immediate "knowledge," but when 
we expressly do so, the sceptic cannot ask us for ratiocinative proof of 
it, or of the object which is said to be given by it. The fact is that 
the sceptic's question is a survival either of the solipsistic position or 
of hypothetical Realism. Where " reality " was made an inference 
from presentations it was legitimate enough to ask for the proof of its 
existence, as all inference, or perhaps rather all assertion that is in re- 
ality inference, requires proof, or involves the fairness of the demand 
for it. But when both idealist and realist assume that cognitive 
'' knowledge" or judgment of this early synthetic type, as I have de- 
fined it, is immediate, the demand for "proof" of the ratiocinative 
sort is not rational. But the rationality of the explanatory question 
conceals this characteristic and only an analysis of the question will 
reveal the fact. Further, also, it is noticeable that the qviestion is 
often asked with the implied assertion that the absence of the proof 
demanded is equivalent to the non-validity of the assumed objective 
" knowledge." That is, the want of proof discredits the claim, while 
the existence of proof determines its validity. This assumption can 
be made only in that period of intellectual development when ratiocina- 
tion is supposed to be the criterion of truth. But I have shown here 
that ratiocination only transmits certitude and validity and does not 
originate it, and consequently the ultimate criterion of "knowledge," 
if criterion it be, is some immediate mental process, itself incapable of 
syllogistic proof. The sceptic, therefore, cannot ask the question at 
all, except as an explanatory query, unless he maintains that the belief 
in objective "reality" is mediate instead of immediate. But, as pre- 
viously explained, the demand for the cause or process which explains 
how we " know" the objective admits the fact, and the fact of it is all 
that the realist requires for the justification of his view that conscious- 
ness can assert the existence of events or " realities " beyond the limits 
in space and time of the subject, or of the particular mental state which 
makes the affirmation. 

But the sceptic may put another question which appears to continue 
the doubt about the validity of judgments regarding an external " re- 
ality." He may ask the assertor : ' What is this reality?' Suppose 
I assert that consciousness can " know " something beyond its own 
states, the dovibter may ask me, ' What is it ? ' This is often an equiv- 
alent to the demand for " proof," which I have already discussed. 
But its real import is a demand to give some account of the " nature " 
of the " reality " affirmed. Now there are only two ways in which we 



202 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

can tell ' what ' a thing is. We can name the class to which it belongs^ 
that is, define it in regard to its qualities as a member of a genus, or 
we can describe it in terms of what it does. Usually the demand means 
the former, and hence if made by the philosopher is understood to be 
a requirement for a definition of the " reality " in terms of its confer- 
entia and differentia, its distinctive and its generic properties. It is 
quite possible that such a definition of the ultimate " reality " of cog- 
nition cannot be given. My own position is that it cannot be given. 
As I have already shown in a previous chapter Apperception is not the 
process for determining either the fact or the "nature" of ultimate 
" reality," but that Perception and Conperception are the means for 
this, that the ultimate " nature " of anything must be expressed in terms 
of the principle of Causality and not of Identity. But it is not neces- 
sary to insist upon the truth of this doctrine in order to support the 
contention here. The primary question of Cognition as I am here de- 
fending it, as a source of immediate "knowledge" of an objective 
" reality," is not ' tvhat ' a thing is, but ' zvhethe}- ' it is other than sub- 
jective mental states. All that is here maintained is the Cognition, 
in Perception and Conperception assert that an objective " reality" 
exists, not xuhat it is in any such terms of explicitness as are demanded 
\by the question. The capacity for giving a definition of its primar}^ 
deliverances is not necessary to its validity, but may be useful in prob- 
lems of intelligibility or communication. In other words, a similar 
answer can be given to this question as ^vas given to the previous one 
discussed. The i nability to tell " what " extern al " reality "is inten ns 
of ^.principle of Identity d oes not disc redit the fa ct of it but in real ity 
assiimes_ltJxLbe^a ^fact and demands fu rther " knowledgeiLregardingjt 
rather than justification for t he assertion, whe^jt is the simple reflex 
oF'^^^expenence " itself, or the necessary interpretation of a presenta- 
tion when that is conceived as a related event. Ability to defi ne " re - 
ality " does not justify the belief in it ^ut makes tli £,a.£&er tion of Jtjiit£l- 
iTgible to otticrs-TiTTerms ot their "^ experience." The result here is 
anaTogbus to thafiTnTtlTOcination ; definition onty transmits intelligence,, 
but does not verify or justifv the judgment originally. 

It is often certain metaphysical interests that prompt to the ques- 
tion. The idealist wdio thinks that his theory must be sustained in 
order to have a foothold against Materialism and who assumes unwar- 
rantably that Realism leads to this JSIaterialism raises the question as 
to what objective " reality " is, that he may avail himself of all the 
sceptical insinuations suggested by the failure to answer the query 
in a manner satisfactory to him, that he may make the existence o£ 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 203 

matter an object of doubt or contention. But I am not at all con- 
cerned with this controversy one way or the other. We may make 
objective " reality" anything we please, M'hether it suits either idealist 
or materialist. All that I am contending for is that cognition in Percep- 
tion and Conperception transcends the subjective state, which they are 
as states of consciousness, as functions of the subject, and that the " re- 
ality " which they attest is not the same thing as the mental state, even 
if it is like the mental state making the assertion. Whether the objective 
" reality " posited by judgment is like orunlike, similar or diverse, from 
the mental state making the assertion is wholly indifferent to the issue 
with which I am concerned. This is the mere question of fact whether 
consciousness can " know " anything but itself, the actions and reactions 
of the subject. Let me summarize the arguments for this fact. 

(a) As I have already indicated the idealist admits all that is con- 
tended for when he refuses to accept solipsism as the proper interpre- 
tation and conception of his doctrine. Solipsistic phenomenalism 
denies the possibility of " knowing" anything but the svibject's own 
mental states. But I have shown that idealism and realism are agreed 
on the point that there is something else " known" than one's own 
states, that a " social " consciousness at least is admitted which means l| 
that there are other individual conciousnesses besides our own. Thisij 
is all that is necessary to sustain the contention here advanced. The 
argument, however, is only ad homlnem. 

{h) Phenomenalism, which assumes the law of coexistence and se- 
quence in events, supposes this objectivity quite as distinctly as the ■ 
believer in causality. The phenomenalist does not think that events are \ 
self-sufRcient or that they stand alone. He endeavors to make them 
intelligible by seeking for their antecedents or coexistent events as- 
sumed to " explain " them. The externality of one event to another is 
a fundamental assumption of its theory and it distinguishes as definitely 
between " external reality " and the states of consciousness as between 
the different mental states. Besides the phenomenalist is as opposed 
to solipsism as any other philosopher and accepts an external " reality." 
This argument, again, is only ad hominefn. 

(c) The implication of the term " phenomenon " itself is that there 
is something besides this in existence. It is a purely relative term like 
" father," or " slave." It has no meaning except in reference to that 
which phenomenalizes. There are just two pertinent meanings to the 
term. The first is that of " appearance," which is the usual definition 
of it as given by the interpreters of Kant. Nothing is clearer than the 
fact that appearance is purely a relative term and implies that some- 



204 THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPIIV. 

thing " appears." \Vc may not be aljlc to deline this " something" 
in terms of apperception or ckiss kind and it is not necessary, as I have 
shown, to do so in order to accept the fact of it, because it is the prin- 
ciple of causality that determines the existence of this something. 
But "phenomenon" and "appearance" have no intelligible import 
unless they imply this correlate which indicates that we must " tran- 
scend " " phenomena" in our " knowledge." Of course, if " knowl- 
edge" be made synonymous with " having " sensations or mental states 
and nothing more it will be true that we "know" phenomena and 
nothing more. But if "knowledge" mean conviction that something 
else is a certain or probable fact, a rational object of belief or certitude, 
then we may be said to " know" more than phenomena in the neces- 
sity of accepting the correlate as a necessary object of consciousness 
although this object cannot be a presentation. 

The second pertinent meaning of the term " phenomenon " will 
lead to the same conclusion. It is that of "event" or "change." 
The first meaning has generally had a flavor of subjective import, 
because it is the conception usually adopted by the idealist and from 
the general nature of his system the suggestion is that of mental states. 
But the meaning " change " or " event" is somewhat different. It is 
adopted in deference to the very idea of an external " realitv." It 
means to describe the transient facts of both internal and external exist- 
ence and hence assumes the external in its very primary import. 
Besides " change " is also a relative term implying that " something" 
changes. " Change " attaches itself to something as a mode of it and 
cannot hang in the air, so to speak, as a self-subsistent fact. It always 
has a correlate, so that we can be said to " know " more than " change " 
when that is " known" at all, assuming of course that import of the 
term " know " which I have explained. That is all that is necessary. 

I must emphasize, however, the fact that, in assuming the existence 
of a direct and certain " knowledge "of " reality," whether external 
or internal, other than mere mental and subjective states, I do not 
mean to assert or imply that we at the same time can determine zv/iat 
this " reality " is. That may remain an open question for settlement 
by other means, as the case may be. All that I am contending for is 
that we have the right to assert on the basis of perceptive and conper- 
ceptive cognition that there is more than mere " phenomena" or sub- 
jective states ^vithin the range of certitude. What it is I might even 
never "know," so far as this fact is concerned. I would even admit 
and assert that apperception can never give this " realitv " in the first 
conception of it. Apperception mav sav something about it in com- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 205 

parison with any other " reaHty " obtainable, but it does not originally 
give it. The principle of identity is not qualified to determine a 
" reality " other than " phenomena " in any case, though it may say 
something about its "nature" either in comparison with other like 
" realities " or in respect of the uniformity of its behavior. But it can- 
not primarily determine it. The principle of causality is that which 
determines the existence of more than " phenomena," but it does not 
determine the kind in any terms of common qualities as does apper- 
ception and the principle of identity. From the standpoint of apper- 
ception the ultimate " reality" may remain '^ unknowable " which is 
only to say that it could not be defined in terms of conferentia and dif- 
ferentia, that is, of kind. The " knowledge " of it as determined by 
the principle of causality is only that of the fact, not of the " nature " 
or kind except in so far as " nature " is expressed in what reality does. 
I mean, therefore, to maintain nothing more in this doctrine of the 
immediate cognition of " reality " than the fact of it and shall leave 
the determination of its "nature" to further and more complicated 
investigation. Only one step at a time can be taken in the theory of 
" knowledge" whose condition is an analysis of the complex product 
as the mature coiasciousness finds it. 

I must still further remark for the reader that I am not assuming 
at present any distinction between " empirical " and " a priori " proc- 
esses of acquiring " knowledge." I wish my statements to be true 
on either theory being true or false. The immediate " knowledge " 
which I am defending is intended to be entirely independent of that 
controversy that so dominated the philosophical discussions of the last 
century. I do not intend that immediate " knowledge" shall be con- 
ditioned upon the settlement of that issue or the choice of either side 
of it. Whether " empirical" or " a priori," I mean that what is 
given in cognition shall be certain. 

But there is a decided limitation to the area of this certain and im- 
mediate " knowledge " which I have supposed. I intend that it shall 
extend no further than the judgment of " reality" involved in present 
fact. I am not explaining or justifying the process in those judgments 
which are called " universal and necessary." These must be subjected 
to further and different investigation. I am explaining and justifying 
only what I shall call the singtilar and present judgment. It is the 
synthesis of an apprehension and a principle of judgment or category. 
The application of causality or identity to an apprehension results in 
the interpretation of it at the moment either as proceeding from a 
given cause or as related in kind to another fact. It does not pro- 



2o6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

nouncc upon it5 " universality or necessity." The simplest illustration 
of this is the impersonal judgment. For example : " It rains," "It 
snows," "It is clear," " It reads well," " It sounds beautiful," " It is 
evident," etc. The impersonal judgment aims to express the fact of 
an event or " phenomenon," and does not specijically indicate the sub- 
ject or cause. It assumes a cause or ground in general, but does not 
name it in terms of comparison with other specific facts or " realities." 
Of course, the order of "knowledge" is predicate then subject as is 
always the case, but the order of statement is that of " reality," subject 
first and predicate afterward, conforming to the fact that the ordo cog- 
nltionis is the reverse of the oi'do naturcE. But the immediate judg- 
ment to which I give certitude, and synthetic and objective character is 
limited to the present " experience " audits reference to a subject 
whether we are certain of ivhat that subject is or not. Also whether 
in apperception the connection between subject and predicate as im- 
plied in the attributes involved is accidental or necessary is not as- 
sumed. It is only the present fact of identity or difference, whether 
contingent or necessary, that is concerned. No questions but the fact 
of present " reality" are involved in the assumption of certain imme- 
diate "knowledge" of the synthetic tvpe as explained. We might 
extend the illustrations of it to such judgments as " This is white," or 
" This shines," etc. But however w"e express it the immediate cogni- 
tions to which I intend to assign a certitude probably as great as in 
apprehension are only the reference of a j^resent fact of " experience" 
to its cause or its kind. 

3. Objections. — There is a certain class of phenomena which will 
appear as objections to this supposed certitude and validity of cogni- 
tive judgments. They are those of Illusions, Hallucinations, and 
Dreams. In all of these we form judgments of " realitv " and then are 
supposed to discover their error. Until that error is discovered, or 
presumably discovered, the conviction of the validity of the previous 
judgment is as strong as that of apprehension. But anv one of the 
phenomena mentioned seems to remove the right to any such convic- 
tion. The force of the argument lies in the fact that as " experiences," 
as facts of consciousness, as apprehensions, thev have to be accepted. 
They have one common characteristic with the facts of normal con- 
sciousness, namely, the characteristic of being a fact of consciousness, 
the difference being onlv that in one a corresponding " reality " is not 
valid as it is supposed to be in the other, namely, in the normal con- 
sciousness. It would seem then that the only " knowledge " of which 
we can be absolutely certain is that of apprehension and that all the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 207 

rest is more or less doubtful. At any rate, if we can sustain the cer- 
titude of cognition as defined, it would appear that we should have to 
base it on the distinction between normal and abnormal consciousness. 
We found in apprehension that this distinction was not required and 
that apprehensions were valid without regard to the question of sanity 
or insanity. But it would appear that, if we are to make good the 
contention in regard to the universal validity of cognition it must be 
based on its limitation to the normal consciousness and some criterion 
for distinguishing between the normal and abnormal mind. 

I do not conceal from myself the fact that there is a real problem 
here of some interest and perhaps of importance in the theory of 
" knowledge." Nor shall I venture on a reply to these objections in 
any dogmatic spirit. It is possible that the answer that I shall present 
may appear to many as unsatisfactory. But be this as it may, I can 
only present such facts and arguments as are accessible, and if they 
are not conclusive the case must be inaintained v^^ith reservations. 

Let us take first the " phenomena" of illusions. Now it is peculiar 
to them that the very conception of " illusion" implies a standard of 
" reality " by which to determine their existence. We could never dis- 
cover an illusion unless there were some " reality " from which they 
are a variation and exception and by which their nature is estimated. 
That is to say, we should never discover illusions but for this variation 
and no distinction could be drawn for polemical uses between the 
" real " and the " vmreal." Just in proportion to the certitude that 
there are illusions would we have a certitude of the " reality " which 
determines them. 

But there is another fact of much greater importance than the one 
just indicated, and perhaps inore satisfactory as an answer to the ques- 
tion. It is that an " illusion " is a false inference, or due to a false 
ii:ference, from a fact of " experience." It is not opposed to cogni- 
tive judgment as I defined it, but only to z/zfcrenh'al judgment. Thus 
I see an object before me which I take to be an orange. Now 
" orange " denotes a group of properties more numerous than may be 
presented in conperception. I may have only the visual " percept" 
of it, and I infer from previous " experience " that the tactual and 
savory properties will be found in the object under the appropriate 
conditions. If I put the case to the proper test to decide the truth of 
this inference I may find it erroneous. The object may be a piece of 
soap like an " orange " in its visual appearance. Hence I call my 
previous " judgment" an illusion. Cognition does not require that I 
should immediately " know" that the merely visual object should be 



2o8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

an " orange," but that before I pronounce such a conclusion I must 
have the adequate conperception. All that cognition gives, according 
to the definition and explanation of it, is the existence of a cause other 
than the presentation, and not that it should be either a complex of 
attributes or any specific object of ' ' experience " involving memory 
and inference. That is given in all illusions as well as other states 
assumed to be free from their defects. We always assume that both 
the illusion and the " experience " which turns out to be an illusion are 
caused, have a subject, though what that subject or cause may be is not 
determined by this merely general fact. The cause is not necessarily 
the fact or expected fact that is inferred, in fact, one might say, is 
never that, but the reflex of the actual " experience" we have rather 
than the ground of some inferred and possible " experience." This is 
to s?y that cognition and its certain " knowledge" still holds good in 
illusions. The definite ground or cause of them may be inferred in so 
far as that is supposed to be identical with the ground of the inferred 
" experience." To illustrate, when I infer that the visual object 
before me is an " orange," I suppose that under the appropriate 
conditions the tactual and savory qualities will be present in con- 
sciousness, which is to say that I should expect to find that the cause 
of the present sensation is the same {nuftiet'o eadem) as that which 
would explain the corresponding tactual and savon,- qualities when 
realized. Only conperception could ever decide the truth of this infer- 
ence. If conperception be applied and the inference is not verified we 
say that the original supposition was an illusion, and this means only 
that the inferred sameness of the cause for the visual object with that 
for " experiences " of another kind is Avrong, not that there is no cause 
or object at all present. It will appear, then, that cognition as I have 
defined it, namely, the process of affirming the simple fact, that of a 
" reality " other than the " phenomenal " event, is still valid and holds 
true even of illusions. 

A similar answer to the objection from hallucinations can be made. 
They differ from illusions only in degree. They are more constant 
and fixed, and the abnormality is perhaps more decided. But whether 
the same or not in kind with illusions, the same argument applies. The 
question is not whether the cause assigned by the hallucinated mind is 
the correct one or not, but It Is whether it Is right In assigning any 
cause or ground at all. It will satisfy all the conditions of cognition 
if no other cause or ground Is assigned than that of the subject him- 
self, and hallucinated persons probably refer the " experiences " or 
presentations Invariably to themselves as their own. This self is some- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 2 09 

thing other than the " phenomenon," even if it is not " external" in 
the sense of outside the organism. 

A further reply is possible. The theory of hallucinations in physi- 
ology and psychology maintains that they are not purely spontaneous 
phenomena, but the effect of secondary stimuli, that is, of stimuli as 
foreign to the brain centers involved in the hallucination as are stimuli 
outside the body. The only difference between them and the normal 
experience is in the definite coordination between stimulus and sensa- 
tion in the normal case and the incoordination of the hallucinations 
with their stimulus. That is to say, the hallucinated mind infers the 
identity of the cause of its " experience " in the real hallucination with 
the cause in the normal " experience." The error is then in the infer- 
ence and not in the fact of an " external " ground of the phenomenon. 
The physiological explanation assumes as necessary for its nature the 
existence of an " external reality " quite as certainly as in normal ex- 
perience, only it does not require the normally specific cause. 

Now^ as dreams are only a type of hallucination and generally ex- 
plained by some organic stimulus, they and their relation to the cogni- 
tion of " reality" are to be explained in the same way. In addition 
to this fact they are also hallucinations that lie midway between the 
properly abnormal phenomena of that name and the illusions of the 
wakeful state. Consequently they are open to the study of the sub- 
ject in his normal and wakeful condition as the ordinary hallucina- 
tions are not. It is interesting to note, therefore, that the very fact of 
the existence of dreams, as different from the "experiences" of the 
normal waking state, requires the waking judgment for its determina- 
tion. That IS, we can determine the illusory character of dreams by 
comparison Avith the waking life. If the waking life and its judg- 
ments are the standard, ^ve can assign dreams an illusory nature only 
on the assumption that the "reality" of the waking life is absent. 
But it is perhaps more important to remark that the dream life is not 
usually characterized by the reflective feeling of either "reality" or 
" unreality," but that the distinction arises only in the waking and re- 
flective state, and if once we assume that this latter is the standard 
rather than the bare apprehensions of sleep we must accept the con- 
sequence which is the interpretation of the dream according to the 
principles involved in the waking and reflective consciousness. More- 
over, if we accept the view that dreams are only the \vaking state of 
some one or two senses while the others are still asleep we can under- 
stand that dreams in their sense of " reality" are simply the result of 
the inference which even the normal waking consciousness w^ould 

14 



210 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

draw under the same circumstances, but is prevented in this normal 
state from drawing by the presence of the normal corrective, some 
space or sensory fact incompatible with the inferred fact. Dreams are 
thus illustrations of both illusion and hallucinations and do not stand 
in the way of sojne "reality" as the object of consciousness, though 
it is not specifically the inferred " reality" which we should expect in 
normal " experience." The cause, or stimulus representing the causal 
" reality," is secondary. 

But while we thus vindicate the certitude and objectivity of cogni- 
tion in perception and conperception we do not obtain for them any 
large area of application. The " knowledge" given by them is small 
or represents a small area. Both apprehension and cognition are con- 
fined to the present facts of "experience" or consciousness. The 
former has none of the material content of judgment as synthetic, 
though judgment has apprehension for its basis. But judgment in so 
far as defined and in so far as it represents the kind of " knowledge " 
with which we are at present concerned, namely, the simplest facts of 
certitude and objectivity, deals with the present data of apprehension, 
and all that it can pronounce with confidence is the existence of an in- 
definite ground or cause which can be specifically determined only by 
further methods. The area of this certain and objective " knowledge " 
becomes very small, and it contains very little of those ideas which 
represent the main interest of science and philosophy. We have ac- 
complished very little in the problem of " knowledge," so far as it 
interests men generally and we may not be able to get any farther. 
We have found that there is a vast system of conceptions, beliefs and 
convictions which represent various combinations of apprehension, 
cognition, association and inference whose validity is not subject to so 
easy an explanation as a reference to these elementar}' processes of 
apprehension and cognition. The investigation of these complex proc- 
esses and the nieasure of their validity and invalidity depends upon the 
criteria supplied by scientific method. But prior to the discussion of 
this is the fact of generalization or the universalizing of judgments. 
We have found that apj^rehension gives a present fact and cognition 
gives only a present singular judgment. " Knowledge," however, as 
usually conceived, involves judgments which are supposed to be " uni- 
versal " and some of them "necessary." Are these on the same foot- 
ing as the present cognitions ? 

4. Generalizatiojz. — We have alreadv found how generalization 
takes place and that it is a process of extending a judgment beyond 
the present moment or the present locus of " experience." It remains 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 21 1 

to examine the validity of this act. Such judgments always involve 
some form of plurality in their meaning. They are called Particular 
and Universal propositions. Possibly w^e could add what may be 
called the General proposition. This last, however, is ambiguous in 
its import. It is particular in its form and is often taken for universal 
in its meaning. It should, therefore, be treated as one or the other in 
clear thinking. " Some men are black" will illustrate the particular 
judgment, and " All men are mortal" the universal. But there is still 
an equivocation lurking in the copula and related to the modality of 
the judgment. This is an ambiguity which is not often noticed. Thus 
I may say, " All war is demoralizing," or " All poisonous substances 
are injurious," and IjnayJTiean eitlier that they are so merely in fact 
or that they are necessarily so. The copula is or " are " does not 
indicate which meaning I intend. The consequence is that I shall 
divide judgment into three types, the actual^ the mnemonic and the a 
priori. The actual judgment is illustrated by the proposition, " This 
is cold," meaning nothing more than the fact that a given object is now 
cold. Nothing is said or implied as to the past or future. The 
mnemonic judgment, though the cojDula is of the present tense, sub- 
jectively assumes that a statement is made involving past experience 
and is illustrated by such propositions as " Men are (always have 
been) mortal." This judgment states a fact of the past as well as of 
the present, and may keep the future open to further " experience " or 
knowledge. The a priori judgment is the universal and necessary 
proposition. It means that the assertion holds good for all time and 
place. It may be illustrated by the proposition, " All matter is (neces- 
sarily) extended," or " Tv\^o and tvs^o make four." 

The actual jvidgment may be dismissed from consideration at 
present, as it has been virtually discussed in the problem of cognition, 
generally including perception and conperception. It is the actual or 
present singular judgment that is given by that process and nothing 
more, according to the definition of the process. In generalization o r 
the plura lization of judgment we are concerned only with the mnemonic 
and a priori propositions. We may briefly describe them as the fac- 
tual &\\A the necessary. In the problem of " knowledge," however, 
the factual judgments are not a subject of dispute. Their validity is 
admitted with the recognition of the facts. Whatever the process of 
determining the fact of any given connection between subject and 
predicate, the validity of the judgment asserting it is not subject to 
doubt or question when the process is not disputed. Thej;eai4li:oblem 
of " knowledge" is the right to assert a necessary_^connec tion b etween 



212 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

s ubject and joredjcate, a connection th at is to hold true^of thejpast and 
future independently of " experience ^or^acFuaTolSservation and mem- 
ory. Consequently^ the problemTs to defefnSine the criterion for the 
■validity oi a przort or universal and necessary judgments. That is, 
when am I entitled to suppose that an assertion is absolutely universal 
and necessary and not reducible to some form of particular or merely 
factual proposition? 

Preliminary to the answer to this question several matters of im- 
portance will have to be examined. The first is the recall of the way 
in which we come to generalize at all. We have found previously that 
the ordo cognitionis and the or do naturce in propositions or "knowl- 
edge " are the reverse of each other. The ordo cognitio7iis is predi- 
cate, then subject, and the ordo natures is subject, then predicate. 
Now, in simple cognition the only evidence that we ever obtain for the 
existence of the subject is not only in the fact of apprehending the 
event or events represented by the predicate of the perceptive and con- 
perceptive judgment, but it is more particularly the assumption or 
" knowledge " that it is a relative fact and to be explained by the prin- 
ciple of causality. The subject thus becomes a reflex of this principle 
and is, as explained, an indefinite " this "or " it." Its specific char- 
acter as discriminated from other centers of reference is a subject of 
determination by additional processes. But we state this order of de- 
pendence in a manner the reverse of its discovery, and hence the cause 
is put as prior to the effect or attribute. But it should be noted that 
if we suppose that this attribute is a " necessary" one of the subject, 
whatever " necessary" may mean, we expect to find it in all cases of 
this subject in time and place. This expectation is based upon the 
uniformity of causation, no matter how we may suppose that such a 
law is derived. This identity of cause in all instances means that the 
effect or fact of " experience" is the same in such cases. The evi- 
dence is the fact of apprehension and the uniformity of kindjn.the..facts 
apprehended. But without stating the case in terms of the ratio cognos- 
ce?z^/ we extend the judgment to all cases on the ground of the identity 
of kind expressed by a universalized subject as determined by the pres- 
ence of the same attribute. It is not the identity of subject and predi- 
cate that determines it, but the identity of the different subjects, or 
rather their essential similarity, as determined by the sameness or 
similarity of the predicate or attribute in each case. The subject and 
predicate may be identical as a matter of fact in certain cases, but the 
universalization is not based upon this circumstance. Hence for the 
moment I am dismissing the question " Aow " we come to " know " the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 213 

universal and am concentrating attention upon the '•'' grouitd" of the 
assertion. That is the principle of identity in the subjects and in the 
predicate as an object of "experience" or apprehension. How the 
principle of identity is the determinant of necessary judgments will 
appear in the further analysis of the problem. All that I indicate at 
present is the fact of it. 

It will be important to note a division of judgments bearing upon 
the question under consideration. This distinction, as involving an 
important difference in nature, is not always recognized, if ever, in the 
form in which I wish to state it. I shall therefore divide judgments 
into mathematical and stibstantive judgments. Mathematical judg- 
ments are based upon space and time. Geometry and its congeners 
represent the mathematical problems of space. Arithmetic and its 
congeners represent the mathematical problems of number in either 
space or time or both. Substantive judgments are based upon the con- 
ceptions of substance and attribute, whether material or mental, or any 
and all other " realities" other than space and time. The field may 
be best illustrated by the physical world and it may not be necessary 
to diaw our representation of such judgments from any other province. 
Hence we may take all the judgments in physical science, except those 
^vhich are based upon the space and time quality of matter, as repre- 
senting what is meant by substantive judgments, " Iron is a metal," 
*' Wood is combustible," " Snow is white." Mathematical judgments 
are illustrated by such as " Two and two make four," " The angles of 
a triangle are equal to two right angles," " Things equal to the same 
thing are equal to each other." 

Now before discussing the difference between these two types of 
judgment in the problem of a priori and necessary truth I must call 
attention to certain differences between them in the relation of subject 
to predicate. In mathematical propositions this relation is that of 
either equality or ijiequality ^ quantitative identity or difference, with- 
out any reference to qualitative character. In substantive judgments 
the relation is inhesion or exclusion for intensive and similarity or 
diversity for extensive propositions, and hence may be said to be quali- 
tative in character. Now the generalization of the judgment does not 
depend on the question whether this relation between subject and pred- 
icate is quantitative or qualitative, but upon the question whether the 
subject remains the same or constant in space and time and upon the 
question whether the predicate is "necessarily" connected with the 
subject in any case. 

It is apparent, therefore, that the problem requires us to say some- 



214 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

thing about what is meant by " necessity " or " necessary " connection. 
There are various meanings of this term which make it difficult to fix 
upon any single clear import for discussion. Any dictionary will show 
this to be true. But I think there is one general conception of it which 
will cover two or more specific applications of the term. This is 
found in its contrast with the idea of freedom in which possible alter- 
natives to any given fact or event are supposed instead of being 
excluded. " Necessity" in such cases, therefore, implies the impos- 
sibility of alternative facts or events, and so the constraint of assuming 
only one fact, if any at all. This general conception will cover the 
ideas of both logical and physical " necessity." Logical " necessity" 
is the constraint of accepting a conclusion or belief which the evidence 
or argument compels. Physical " necessity " is inevitability of an 
effect, fact or event under the conditions supposed to be the cause. 
Now as to the " necessity " of the connection between subject and pred- 
icate in any case there is first the mere question whether any identity 
exists between them and second the question whether the connection 
is supposed to represent the idea of causality. In the first case the 
"necessity" is convertible with identity or implied by it, and in the 
second case causality has no meaning unless " necessity" is implied by 
it. This does not mean that any cause is itself a " necessity," for there 
may be no causes at all, so far as we are concerned, but only that, if 
there is an effect, if there is any fact beginning in time, it requires a 
cause to explain it. It is the assumption that any fact is an effect or 
event that compels us to talk about causes, and that compulsion is 
simply the lav\^ of our nature to assume some cause where we suppose, 
believe, assume, or are certain of effects. The "necessity" of the 
connection between the fact represented by the predicate and its 
cause or ground, in perception and conperception, is simply the 
correlate and reflex of the law of thought about such facts, while 
the "necessity" of the connection where similarity is involved, as 
in apperceptive judgments, is a reflex or representative of that idea 
of persistence or fixity for which "necessity" has often stood in 
human thought. But once assume thus the existence of " necessary" 
connection in any individual case the only question that remains is 
that of its uniformity afterward, and that uniformity will be guaran- 
teed by the identity of the subject and predicate in space and time. 
This means that the evidence of the " necessar}^ " connection will 
depend more distinctly upon the identity of the subjects in space 
and time which are indicated bv the identity of the predicates in 
" experience." The prediction of universality which a priori judg- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 215 

ments embody will depend on this uniformity of the two terms and 
their connection. 

Now in mathematical judgments, which are based upon the world 
of space and time, we deal with subjects which are changeless. 
Space and time are each homogeneities, continua, self-identical 
throughout, if I may use that expression to define their unity of kind, 
not between each other but between the parts of each and the whole, so 
to speak. They are the principles of both continuity and individuation. 
In dimensional quality they determine continuity. In divisional qual- 
ity they determine individuation, points that in space and moments that 
in time. Points are the individual units of space, moments those of 
time. The units are identical in kind and the collective whole is con- 
tinvious and identical in quality, but not in quantity, with the units or 
parts. They are the constants of nature. They are not complexes of 
attributes, nor grounds of variable modes, but " realities " with but one 
fixed property, if that expression can be used, or dimension, namely 
commensurable quality. In fact, one cannot well distinguish between 
the quality and the " reality" of which we may think it necessary to speak 
when referring to quality of any kind in time and space. " Commensur- 
able quality " is all that we have to think of in space and time. The 
consequence is that they represent the best illustrations of the principle 
of identity that we can choose in a concrete form. The subjects of math- 
ematical judgments therefore, represent facts having or embodying as 
perfect identity of kind throughout space and time as we can imagine 
and the identity between subject and predicate, as dealing only with 
quantity of commensurable quality, is so definite that the generalization 
of all mathematical propositions can be made a priori. In the judg- 
ment "7 + 5 are 12," dismissing the actual and mnemonic, or factual 
judgments, as not the subject of dispute, we have the a priori judg- 
ment, that " 7 -!- 5 are always and necessarily i3," simply on the 
ground that the subject remains constant, changeless, and the predicate 
is quantitatively and qualitatively identical with it. The principle of 
identity thus determining the case, we have a necessary truth of which 
certitude can be proclaimed, just as the certitude of the conclusion in 
deductive reasoning is determined by the same principle. In mathe- 
matical judgments we can reason from the singular to the universal, so 
to speak, because there is no possibility of any qualitative difference 
between them. 

In substantive judgments we are dealing with a world of change as 
v^ell as incontrovertibility of subject and predicate qualitatively in 
intensive propositions, and in extensive propositions the convertibility 



2l6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

occurs only when cjuantity is considered. But as extensive proposi- 
tions have their ukimate meaning determined by their conversion into 
intensive judgments we can reduce the problem of generalization in 
substantive judgments to that of the intensive propositions, such as 
"All men are mortal," " Snow is white," or " Blood is red." Now 
in intensive judgments there is no evidence of identity of kind between 
subject and predicate. As the properties of the subject change under 
various conditions while the subject or substance is supposed, in the 
law of the indestructibility of matter and substance, to remain constant 
or to persist in space and time, we have conditions under which it is 
difficult to generalize with a p7'iori confidence and certitude, as in 
mathematical judgments. As I have indicated, « ^r/cr/ generalization 
depends on the uniformity of the conditions under which the relation 
between subject and predicate can be asserted. When subject and pred- 
icate are conceived as convertible with each other either quantitativelv 
or qualitatively or both and the subject or predicate are assumed to be 
changeless in space and time, the universality of the judgment of per- 
ception and conjoerception is adequately guaranteed. But when we 
begin to deal with a vuiiverse of change, or of phenomena, the gener- 
alization will be subject to other conditions in the determination of its 
validity. On the other hand, in definitions and in abstract conceptions 
we seem to be able, in spite of this \vorld of change, to generalize with 
tolerable certitude. Besides \ve may generalize hypotheticallv with as 
much certitude as in mathematical judgments. Consequentlv it will 
be necessary to consider the various conditions under which the certi- 
tude and incertitude of these generalizations occur. 

It will be important to remark, however, that this world of change 
to which I have referred is qualified. The change is in the predicates 
of " reality" and is not supposed of the " reality " or substance itself. 
The changes are in the modes of a changeless " reality," the " phe- 
nomena" are activities of a subject or substance which remains perma- 
nent and fixed as a subject of phenomena. This is illustrated in the 
doctrine of the indestructibility of matter and the consen-ationof energv. 
Whether these doctrines are true or not is indifferent to the present 
question. I am stating them as believed. That is all that is necessar}- 
for my present contention. If it should be disputed we should only 
have to hold the fundamental doctrines of physical science in abeyance. 
The conceptions here defended are only obtained in deference to the 
doctrines of physical science. In all cases, however, the predicates 
or phenomena of " reality" are represented as modal changes, so that 
there is not the same constancy or persistence in the " phvsical " world 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 217 

as in the mathematical worlds of space and time. Now it should be 
observed that in so far as substance, whether material or mental, parti- 
cipates in the worlds of space and time, in extensive and protensive 
quantity, it becomes subject to the laws of mathematics, those of space 
and time, and all perceptive and conperceptive judgments involving 
this relation will be generalizable as are the propositions of pure math- 
ematics. Beyond that the generalizations must be examined with some 
care. All this is only to say that when the predicate of a judgment is 
conceived as qualitatively and quantitatively identical with the subject, 
as in mathematical propositions, the generalization can be a friori cer- 
tain, universal and necessary. But when this relation does not obtain, 
the problem becomes one of different conditions and must be submitted 
to analysis. Let me begin with definitions which have universality and 
necessity. 

(a) In all definitions v\^e have a combination of intensive and exten- 
sive judgments in which there is such a quantification of terms that the 
subject and predicate become quantitatively and qualitatively identical. 
The subject and predicate are thus necessarily connected or related, so 
that wherever either term is found the other must be found by virtue of 
this identity, and the universality and necessity are but a reflex of the 
law of identity in the case. For example, " Man is a rational animal," 
in which " rational" is taken as the differentia and " animal" as im- 
plying the conferentia. The predicate is thus identical with the sub- 
ject as constituting the whole of it, and hence where we find the predi- 
cate, or the qualities represented by it we should find the same subject, 
and the relation is necessary as being convertible with their identity. 
The definition, however, is nothing more than an explication of the 
meaning of the two different terms, so that the definition means only that 
wherever we use the term " man " we should expect to find the quali- 
ties expressed or implied by the terms " rational animal," not that there 
is any constancy or persistence in the " realities" so named. Our con- 
cepts and terms must have identity and constancy of meaning, whether 
nature is such or not, and hence definitions have a formal universality , 
and necessity which is important for the communication of " knowl- \ 
edge " and for the interpretation of facts when they occur, but are not I 
indicative of the constancy and identity in space and time of the facts 1 
which they interpret. This is only to say that the " knowledge" (cer- 
titude and necessity) expressed in definitjons^mayjiot have or require 
objective„.'.'_real'i_CQntent, valid meaning and implication of a "re- 
ality " other than an idea as occurs in perception and conperception, 
bu^ simply implicates the identity of subject and predicate for thought 



2l8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

without implication one way or the other in regard to " reality." The 
" reality " when it is found will be observed to accord with the '• ideal" 
case. It is a mere problem of identity, and the world of definition will 
be the same as the world of mathematics. The universality and ne- 
cessity are but other expressions for the identity of the subjects and 
predicates, and the judgments will not hold good for any " real " world 
unless identity, constancy, or homogeneity are characteristic of it as 
they are characteristic of the concepts and their relations to each other. 
{b) There is the ordinary, apperceptive or extensive proposition 
which must be briefly examined and the generalizations involved in it. 
It may be illustrated in such judgments as " All men are vertebrates," 
" Iron is a metal," " Wood is a substance," ' Letters are symbols," or 
" Philosophy is a science " and " Painting is an art." Now if the gener- 
alization in these jvidgments is more than factual or empirical, whether 
actual or mnemonic, that is, if they are universally and necessarily 
true, as in mathematics, it must be because of some application of the 
principle of identity in them which will enable us to extend them be- 
yond their empirical application. Now, being apperceptive judgments, 
whether factual or necessary, they represent some sort of identity in 
kind between subject and predicate, or between the things expressed 
by their terms, and hence the necessity of the connection between 
them, even in their empirical conception. But the question now is 
w'hether this connection wall hold in all space and time. Now if the 
predicate, or quality expressed by it, represent an identical or per- 
sistent and constant fact in time or space, the identity of the subject in 
kind goes with it, simply by virtue of the fact that, being apperceptive 
or extensive judgments, the two terms are identical iu' their implica- 
tions of properties, identical in quality though they may not be in 
quantity. They partake of the nature of a definition in all but their 
quantification, and this fact carries with it the implication of the neces- 
sity of their connection, if the fact expressed by the predicate is con- 
stant in " experience " or the same in thought. The only difference 
between this type of judgment and definitions is that the latter are 
simply convertible, owing to the qualitative and quantitative identity 
between the two terms, while the former are only qualitatively identi- 
cal, and this identity suffices to give them universality and necessity in 
space and time, but only in so far as the quality expressed by the pred- 
icate is identical with the quality expressed in the subject. I am deal- 
ing only with the extensive and apperceptive import of the proposi- 
tions and nothing else, and this involves identity of kind between 
subject and predicate and identity of kind in space and time of the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 219 

predicate as an object of " experience." The necessity, however, 
indicated is not the necessity of this identity in space and time of the 
predicate as a fact, but only the necessity of its relation to the subject 
which it evinces. The generalization is only a reflex or embodiment 
of this universal or necessary relation. That is, the subject must mean 
the same thing wherever the qualities are found which determine its 
meaning in the individual instance. But it is apparent that only when 
the judgment represents an embodiment of the principle of identity in 
some form that its necessity can be assumed and that identity must be 
between the two terms of the proposition as a guarantee for the possi- 
bility of generalizing at all, that is, of asserting the connection for 
all individuals, though the generalization may be only hypothetical. 

(c) I next take up intensive judgments. They are illustrated in 
all propositions representing the relation between substance and 
attribute. For example, " Iron is hard," " Oranges are yellow," 
" Snow is white," " Man is rational," " Water has specific gravity," 
etc. We have in these judgments examples in which the subject and 
predicate do not seem to be in any respect similar or in that regard 
representative of the principle of identity. So far as the principle of 
identity is represented by unity of space or time they inay embody it, 
but not in the conception of similarity which is the important condi- 
tion of necessary connection in universal propositions, as the assumed 
plurality of subjects involves at least a numerical difference. The ab- 
sence of this identity between substance and attribute implied in the in- 
tensive judgment, taken with the fact that the substantive world is one 
of change, in many of its aspects at least, prevents us from generalizing 
unconditionally in intensive propositions. That is to say, we cannot 
generalize an individual case of perception and conperception with 
any a prio7'i certitv;de and necessity withovit recognizing conditions of 
its validity which apparently hold good in some cases and not in others. 
For example, suppose we have the individual instance in perception 
of " This iron is hard." We cannot assume from this that " All iron 
will be hard," because " iron " in a melted condition is a liquid, in a 
volatile state it is a gas, frozen by liquid air it is brittle. Hence we 
cannot say that " All iron is hard "in the ordinary import of that term, 
" hard," meaning that " Iron in all conditions is hard." I can equally 
say, " Iron is volatile," " Iron is fluid," " Iron is tough," " Iron is 
brittle." These are contradictory judgments as they stand, though all 
true with the qualification of the special condition in which the predi- 
cate holds true of the subject. This is to say that in such intensive 
judgments I cannot generalize in an a priori manner, except that I 



2 20 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOP//Y. 

assume an identity of t/ie conditio7is under \vliieh I obsen'c the con- 
nection of sul:)]ect and ^^redicate in perception and conperception. The 
extent to which we can generalize in such cases is dependent upon in- 
ductive methods and so the generalization does not represent a neces- 
sary truth for all time and space in the world of change, but only in 
the identity of the conditions determining the relation in the first 
instance. 

The last remark suggests the reason for the apparent validity of 
the universal judgment " Snow is white." This seems to be neces- 
sarily true. But this is because the subject is a name for the condi- 
tion of a given substance in which it appears always to be white. Or 
perhaps we can express the same fact in another way. The whiteness 
concerned is the evidence of the condition of that substance which I 
call "snow" in that condition, and " snow " becomes not the name 
of the substance, but for its condition which is whiteness of a certain 
sort. In spite of its substantive form the term "snow" becomes 
attributive or phenomenal in its import, and convertible with the 
predicate, that is, identical with it, and the generalization and necessary 
connection apparent is due to this fact. 

Now it should be observed that the subjects of all judgments, ex- 
tensive or intensive, are substantives^ the predicate is substantive only 
in extensive and never in intensive projDositions. But in spite of its 
substantive form of expression the subject is not always substantive in 
its direct and primary import, but only in its secondary meaning and 
implication. Hence before we can settle the a priori and necessary 
character of generalizations in intensive judgments as formally defined, 
we require to distinguish between subjects of propositions that denote 
substances and subjects that denote their condition, or denote attributes 
or phenomenal facts in spite of their substantive form. In the former 
case a priori generalization of the certain and necessary kind is not 
possible, because there is no apparent identity between subject and 
predicate implied by the conceptions and the predicate, in the individ- 
ual case, may not represent as persistent a fact as the subject, and it 
must do this to justify the necessity of the generalization. But in the 
second case, where the subject may be identical with the predicate in 
spite of its form of expression, the a priori generalization is possible. 

What has just been said about the double import of substantive 
terms brings us to an important aspect of the present problem. If we 
could assume but one meaning for intensive propositions in the denota- 
tion of the subject and that the mere conception of substance with 
indefinite variability of its predicates or attributes and conditions, the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 22 1 

whole case would be clear against the universality and necessity of the 
judgments involved. But the fact that substantive terms may have an 
attributive or phenomenal import, as well as the " real " or that of a sub- 
stratum, establishes a condition of things which suggests that we may 
treat the subject of all intensive judgments in this way and disregard 
the consideration of the substantive " reality " altogether. The neces- 
sity of doing it in some cases is clear from the fact that the subject or 
substantive term may have a phenomenal import identical with that of 
the predicate. Thus to apprehension "snow" and "white" have 
absolutely the same meaning. If we were asked to tell another what 
we meant by " snow " we should have to distinguish it by its essential 
appearance to apprehension. If we ever discover or conceive a differ- 
ence between the subject and predicate concepts it will be either (a) in 
perception and conperception where the cause is thought to be other 
than the effect, whether different in kind or not, or {b) in the case 
where the subject concept represents a group of qualities other than the 
one indicated by the predicate, or one thought of as more essential 
than the predicate. Only in the first of these two instances have we 
the properly substantive judgment which makes the generalization 
inductive and subject to the determination of other criteria than mere 
cognition and a priori generalization, except of the hypothetical and 
formal kind. The second case will come up in a moment for consid- 
eration. What I have first to complete is the discussion of those 
instances, like " Snow is white," in which there is an identity element 
involved between subject and predicate, which is the basis of the gen- 
eralization so evident in them. As remarked above, so far as appre- 
hension is concerned, "snow" and "white" are identical, and the 
experience " white " will always be the evidence of the existence of the 
subject or substance asserted in perception and conperception, as well 
as association and inference. Consequently in our representative con- 
ception the subject and predicate will be identical and the substantive 
idea will be implied only on question as to the full import of the term, 
and then be only indefinite, as we found in the example of " iron." 
The effect of this in all cases v\^here the identification of the subject, that 
is, the discovery of it, depends on the apprehension or representation, 
Hume's " copy of impressions," or v^here the subject term would not be 
used unless it denoted the predicate " percept" or recept, the generaliza- 
tion is safely a: ^rz'orz and necessary, even though It be hypothetical, as it 
must be. It is apparent, therefore, that the procedure is still depen- 
dent upon the application of the principle of identity, so that this 
would seem to be the one condition of all a priori nece%?>ary judgments. 



22 2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

In the second class of subject conceptions, mentioned above, we 
have the most important instances of such as must give trouble to any 
assertion of a priori and necessary generalization. They are impor- 
tant because they represent propositions in a -way to make it apparently 
unnecessary to suppose any valid conceptions of " reality " beyond the 
phenomenal. In them we may suppose that subject terms require no 
other meaning for their use in substantive and intensive judgments 
than as names for facts, events, phenomena, or " experiences," just as 
the predicates in such propositions do. These subject conceptions 
may represent facts similar to or diverse from the predicate and corre- 
spondingly affect the question of generalization, making it " empirical " 
or a priori^ as the case may be. Let ine resort to illustration. 

In the proposition "gold is yellow^ " we have a subject concept 
which we may conceive either as a substance or as a group of quali- 
ties. Suppose w^e say that these properties are extreme malleability, 
metallic luster, specific gravity of 19.40, and yellow color. Let us 
call these B^ C, D and E. Let me use A for the substantive import 
of the term. We covdd then say in terms of the intensive judgment as 
defined that " ^ is ^ " ; "^ is C" ; "^ is Z>"; "^ is E." But 
on the assumption that A is substantive in reality we could not say 
that it is always and necessarily either B ^ C^ D or E individually or 
these collectively, except v^^e assume the identity of the conditions 
which make it these in any given case, since the changes of substance 
in its modes and the assumed non-identity of the connection between 
subject and predicate prevents the " inference" or generalization uni- 
versally and necessarily. But if A is interpreted as identical in import 
with BCDE the case is different. That is, if instead of having the 
substantive import A the term for the subject, namely, " gold," mean 
BCDE^ then the proposition becomes a priori necessarv, but tau- 
tological, as in every case where the subject is identical absolutely with 
the predicate in its import. 

But the fact is that there are various interpretations of such judg- 
ments. First, assuming that the subject is the name for a group of 
attributes, the proposition escapes a tautological meaning when we 
suppose that it intends to emphasize certain instances as satisfactorily 
determinative of what the subject is or means and the predicate appears 
as a synthetic addition. But this group may represent different attri- 
butes in the same sensory field or different attributes in different sen- 
sory fields, and this distinction may be a matter of importance in the 
issue. But assuming the latter first, we should have the subject BCD 
with the predicate E. Concretely the proposition " Gold is yellow" 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 223 

Avould be, " BCD is ^," or better, " Gold," that is, a certain specific 
gravity, malleability, and metallic lustre, is connected with a yellow 
color. Now whether that connection can be made a p7-lori or not will 
depend on certain conditions. As specific gravity is a tactual quality, 
and is considered as the final criterion of "gold," as compared with 
other " realities," its differential and essential mark, we might suppose 
that " gold" meant this quality and that the assertion that " All gold 
is yellow" meant that, when we found this tactual quality present, we 
might safely infer the presence of its yellowness. Now I must con- 
tend that we can do nothing of the sort without " experience." The 
perception of " gold " considered factually alone with the specific 
gravity concerned will permit no generalization whatever, except with 
reference to this tactual percept and that it should be yellow also is a 
purely empirical judgment, and no a ^r/cr/' anticipation of other sensory 
qualities, previously to their associated presence through conperception, 
can be asserted. Consequently this synthetic character of the judg- 
ment, as explained, makes all a priori necessary generalization a 
generalization of the connection between the subject and predicate, as 
long as the proposition is conceived in the manner indicated. This is 
briefly stated in the fact that, whenever the predicate is the synthetic 
addition of another sense than the fact or facts represented by the sub- 
ject, the judgment cannot be a priori and necessary but is empirical 
only. If afterward we agree that the subject shall be attested by the 
synthetic presence of all these various properties we may then make 
the sVibject and predicate identical in meaning by means of definition. 
But any necessity assumed under these conditions is hypothetical and 
dependent upon empirical antecedents, and may be said to be only 
logical. I think the same general treatment can be applied to synthetic 
judgments with subject and predicate represented in the same sensory 
*' experience." The connection between the attributes involved must 
be empirical, if they do not embody the principle of identity in some 
way. 

Let me take one more illustration for discussion, the example, 
^' Oranges are yellow." This again is a judgment in which the sub- 
ject represents a group of attributes, or phenomena, if you like, assum- 
ing that we are not taking the term in a substantive sense. Suppose, 
however, instead of taking the group of qualities into account here we 
take only one, that of taste, or peculiar sapidity which is supposed to 
characterize the orange, and with it the supposed yellow color. Now 
if we mean by the term " orange" this peculiar sapidity, then the 
predicate is not identical with the subject and the proposition only indi- 



224 '^11^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

cates connection between them. In saying " All oranges are yellow "" 
we simply say that " All sapid things of a given type are also yellow,"' 
or " All cases of this supposed sapidity are also associated with the 
color yellow." Now apart from conperception this synthesis of 
" yellow" and orange sapidity cannot be treated as necessary. There 
is no reason apart from conperception for supposing that they would 
ever be connected at all, and hence we cannot a priori generalize this 
connection for all conditions, other than hypothetically, wdiich would 
only mean that the repetition of the same facts would give the same 
judgment, a conception too formal to be of any value in regard to the 
question at issue, which is the necessary connection between the sub- 
ject and predicate, when the subject means something different from 
the predicate. What is actually stated and without qualification as ta 
conditions is that " All oranges (cases of this sapidity) are also- 
yellow," and this means that subject and predicate are not identical 
but connected. The primary difficulty is in the equivocal import of 
the copula in all propositions, if we assign it any meaning at all. In 
intensive propositions conceived as representing the connection between. 
substance and attribute the synthesis is not of kind but only of connec- 
tion, that is, does not imply identity, but relation. But in extensive 
propositions the synthesis is that of similar realities and the copula 
expresses identity of some kind. Hence we must say either the copula 
has no meaning in a sentence or it takes the ineaning of conceived identity 
or relation between subject and predicate. Assuming the latter as the 
natural tendency of the mind and the actual meaning of half the pro- 
positions in use we can discover a source of equivocal import in judg- 
ment generally and it will only be when M'e reckon with the actual 
intention of the judgment that we can determine the nature of the 
generalization. When the subject and predicate do not express some 
kind of identity, no matter whether the judgment be treated as exten- 
sive or as the synthesis of phenomena of different kinds, as in cases 
when the subject is conceived as one phenomenon and the predicate 
as another, the generalization can never be a priori necessar}-, but must 
be empirical. We could not infer the yellow color of an "orange" 
from its sapidity alone and without " experience." We could only 
generalize the color by making it at least one of the " essential " attri- 
butes by which the ' ' orange " should be known as well as by the peculiar 
sapidity by which we test the correctness of our inference when we 
see the " orange " without tasting it. 

But this allusion to "essential" qualities requires us to examine 
what the term means. It is an equivocal term again, like almost all 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 225 

terms having any philosophic importance. " Essential " has at least 
two distinct meanings. They are (i) common qualities, and (2) 
necessary qualities. Both of these meanings are supposed to describe 
objects ontologically, that is, their " nature." It should be noticed, 
however, that the first of these meanings represents matter in which 
the objects so qualified are of the same kind. This implies that when 
"essence" denotes common qualities it indicates likeness of kind 
between the things classified. It therefore represents a conception of 
the principle of identity as I have defined the term " ontological." 
The second import of the term, however, that of necessary, does not 
imply identity between the quality called " necessary" and the subject 
to which it belongs. It indicates only that the connection between 
subject and predicate is such that when one of them is found the other 
will be present, not that they are the same in kind. The first import 
is the principle of classification, the second is a principle of cognition, 
The first is " ontological," the second is epistemological, the one ratio 
essendi^ and the other the ratio cognoscendi of the subject. When 
" essence" denotes the common qualities it involves the comparison of 
different {numero diversa at least) subjects and their identity in kind. 
But when it denotes necessary qualities it is merely the test of apply- 
ing a given term to the cognitive subject of the fact in " experience," 
which may not be identical with the predicate, though as a subject it 
may have remained "identical" in time; that is, is and will be the 
same, or the same in kind with the subject of the same past " experi- 
ence." The reason for thus distinguishing between the two meanings 
of the term " essential" is the fact that there may be a slight differ- 
ence of meaning between " universal " and " necessary," though they 
are often made convertible with each other, or the "universal" taken 
as evidence of the " necessary." But as we can conceive a quality as 
" universal " without regarding it as " necessary," w^e must in all such 
cases or possibilities regard the two terms as not exactly synonymous. 
Thus I may say " All men laugh" and yet not suppose for a moment 
that the capacity to laugh is a " necessary " quality of "man." Of 
course, if " necessary " means no more than actually " universal," this 
last observation will not hold good. But as we are in the habit of dis- 
tinguishing between certain universal properties as "accidental" and 
certain others as " essential," for example, regarding vertebrateness as 
more "essential" than risibility in man, we find it important to dis- 
tinguish between "essential" as merely common properties and 
" essential " as " necessary" qualities. What we choose to regard as 
" necessary " qualities may be, or appear to be, quite arbitrary when 

15 



226 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOFHY. 

these are not the actually universal qualites, if such a thing ever hap- 
pens. It is probable, however, that the distinction will always lie 
within the field of the ' ' universal " qualities and only indicate that 
part of them which has more value for certain purposes than others. 
This suggests that quite often " necessary" carries with it a teleolog- 
ical import when certain "universal" properties may have only an 
ontological import and no teleological, and also no gnosiological or 
epistemological significance in the recognition of a subject. When the 
"essential" properties are taken as the evidence of the subject, they 
are taken in that narrow meaning which makes the predicate which 
they denote convertible with the subject in formal logic. This is not 
necessarily the case with " universals " merely. " Vertebrateness " 
may be a " universal" quality of man and also of other beings, so that 
it may be regarded as equally " essential " to man and certain animals. 
But there maybe "universal" qualities in man that are not found 
elsewhere and hence are "essential" to man in a more fundamental 
sense. This is the differential " essence" which will be true of indi- 
viduals as well as classes or genera. When the " essential " qualities 
are so conceived they make subject and predicate convertible in formal 
logic and in "knowledge" without making them identical in kind. 
In thus considering any quality as " necessary " or " essential" to the 
subject we only indicate our intention to apply the subject term when- 
ever w'e find that particular predicated in " experience." That is, w^e 
make this particular predicate the ratio cognosceiidi of the presence 
of a given subject or subject term, and the constancy of the former 
will be taken as evidence of the constancy of the latter. Thus, if I 
assume that a particular kind of yellow shall be treated as the " essen- 
tial" quality of an " orange," I shall be able to say and tliink that 
" All oranges are and must be yellow," because in the conception of 
"yellow" I have indicated my intention to regard it as the invariable 
indication of the subject and the property convertible with it logically. 
It thus becomes like a definition in which subject and predicate are 
identical for "knowledge," whether they are or not for "reality." 
This is to say that, though subjects are not identical, the identity of the 
predicate in time and space, its constancy, and the assumed " neces- 
sarv'" connection or "essentiality" of it as a quality of the subject, 
guarantee the identity of the subject in time and space. For example, 
when either a particular sapidity or a distinctive yellow is taken as the 
criterial quality of a subject to be named " orange," the generalization, 
" All oranges are of a given sapidity," or " All oranges are yellow," 
will be necessarily true, not because the subject and its attribute are 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 227 

identical in kind, but because the temporal identity of the predicate 
fact or phenomenon, when assumed to be the differential essence of what 
shall be the subject, involves the same identity of the subject as a cog- 
nitive object, if the principle of causality is to have any application at 
all to phenomena. Assuming the predicate at any time to be the dif- 
ferential essence is only to say that, with or without a reason, a given 
fact is to be treated as the evidence of a subject which shall be the 
same as long as the predicate remains the same. If we so desire we 
may call this an epistemological identity as distinct from an ontolog- 
ical identity which is found only in extensive propositions. This 
so-called epistemological identity is not one of kind, but only one of 
relation or constancy of connection, and this suffices to determine the 
generalization and to make it a f7'io7'i and necessary to the extent of 
that identity, though it may be only hypothetical, as it depends, not 
upon the identity of subject and predicate in kind, but upon the iden- 
tity of the predicate in time and space and the uniformity of causation 
for its validity. It is conditioned, too, by the assumption of the pred- 
icate as the differential essence of the subject, and this affiliates the 
conception to that of a definition in which the principle of identity, 
either in the form of unity or similarity, is the determining factor of 
thought, and where this prevails in any form the generalization may 
be a necessary one to the same extent. 

The real difficulty in such cases, however, is in the fact that in all 
judgments involving the assumption of the predicate as the differential 
essence of the subject, where it is the common quality of the class de- 
noted by the subject and the property distinguishing this subject from 
all others at the same time, the prius in " knowledge" is the predicate, 
while in all other propositions the prius is the subject. This fact en- 
ables us to analj'ze the problem of generalization as follows. 

In all mathematical jvidgments the subject is intelligible without 
stating the predicate and the identity between it and any predicate 
which may be assumed, as it is determined by the very nature of such 
judgments, is the guarantee of their vmiversal necessity. The propo- 
sitions can be treated as and are extensive judgments in which the 
order of thought is subject and then predicate. In definitions the same 
fact is seen and they are practically and logically the same as mathe- 
matical judgments. 

In intensive judgments which represent the relation between sub- 
stance and attribute the possibility of a priori necessary generalization 
is purely conditional. The permanence of substance and the variability 
of attributes or phenomena make the relation between subject and 



2 28 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

predicate an empirical one to "knowledge." The constancy of the 
subject will be no guarantee for the constancy of the predicate as this 
may vary indefinitely with the persistence of the same subject. What 
the predicate will be in properly intensive judgments is never a priori 
determinable from the mere subject conception without specifying the 
conditions under which the subject conception is viewed. The conse- 
quence is that there are several limitations to the generalizations in this 
type of judgments. 

Firstly, the predicate is the prius in " knowledge " and the subject 
when conceived substantively is only a reflex of the principle of caus- 
ality and unless the predicate remains identical in space and time no 
universality and necessity is possible, even though the subject persists, 
as both must be constant to satisfy the conditions of judgment in the 
generalization. Hence phenomenal identity has to be assumed to 
justify the assertion of noumenal identity in the subject. The predi- 
cate idea has to be assumed to represent the essential fact in the meas- 
ure of what the subject shall be and this means that, for the purposes 
of generalization, the subject is conceptually identical, either as unity 
or similarity, with the predicate, and the principle of identity becomes 
the criterion of the generalization. In any other view of it the rela- 
tion is empirical and not necessary. 

Secondly, intensive judgments may be only formally such. The 
subject term may not be conceived as a substantive but as a phenomenal 
term. That is, instead of importing substance into the proposition it 
may mean some representative phenomenon or experiential fact whiclx 
is not the reflex of causality or ground, and the predicate may stand for 
some synthetically connected quality. In such cases the subject may 
be the prius of thought and the relation of the predicate to it an 
inferred one. 

Thus "All oranges (sapid quality) are yellow (visual quality)." 
The relation here is purely empirical and never necessary as the result 
of generalization unconditionally from either infero-apprehension or 
conperception. The synthesis is itself due in many cases to association 
and " experience." 

Thirdly, in all judgments, whether extensive or apparently inten- 
sive, if the subject is simply s^ymbolical or representative of the attribu- 
tive term or phenomenon which it denotes, thus appearing conceptually 
identical with it, the proposition may be regarded as a priori neces- 
sary. Otherwise it is not, as some form of " essential" relation has 
to be assumed to guarantee the right to assert the necessary character 
of the generalization. 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 229 

In conclusion we must remark that the fundamental condition of 
a priori necessary generalized judgments will be the identity of the 
subject in space and time. But there is no guarantee of this identity 
but in the similar identity of the predicate or phenomenal fact in space 
and time. If this latter condition is not fulfilled in reality no general- 
ization can be more than hypothetical and formal. In the last analysis 
we have found that it is always the predicate that represents the prius 
in " knowledge " and that the subject is the reflex of the principle of 
causality, since extensive judgments are reducible to intensive in their 
ultimate interpretation. Now if the predicate fact, phenomenon, or 
attribute is not the same in all conditions there is no evidence that the 
subject will be the same, though it actually be so in fact. Now in 
mathematical judgments the predicate requires for its realization 
nothing more than space and time. These are severally homogeneous 
constants, whether as principles of continuity or principles of indi- 
viduation, and consequently assure the constancy of the concepts which 
may furnish the predicate of propositions, while the quantitative and 
qualitative identity (difference in negative judgments) assures the 
necessary identity between subject and predicate to make the general- 
ized judgment universally necessary, a priori necessary both formally 
and really. But in substantive judgments only " experience " can 
determine the extent of the constancy, or identity in space and time, of 
the predicate or phenomenal fact for which the predicate stands, and 
hence the generalization can only be formally and hypothetically neces- 
sary, in so far as they are the immediate extension of judgment on the 
occasion of perception and conperception, or of apperception. Even 
then, it is conditioned vipon the assumption of "essential" qualities 
which will determine the empirical import of substantive terms and 
only indicate that the predicate phenomenon is the ratio cognoscendi^ 
not the ratio essendi of the subject in the ordinary ontological sense, 
the necessary connection being contingent upon the constancy of the 
predicate phenomenon and the uniformity of causation. The con- 
sequence is that, outside of mathematical judgments, all generalizations 
of an a priori and necessary kind must be of a formal type and depend 
upon some form of the principle of identity assumed between subject 
and predicate. Apart from this condition they are empirical, or their 
universality is factual and not " necessarv." This makes it apparent 
that the field of a priori necessary judgment is a narrow one and that 
we have yet to explain that of empirical generalization and its relation 
to the a priori. This brings us to the consideration of Scientific 
Method as a criterion of truth. 



230 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

III. Scientific Method. 

I have discussed three forms of " knowledge," namely, Logic, 
Immediate Consciousness, and Generalization. The first was said 
only to transmit certitude, not to originate it. The second indicated 
the sources of two types of certain " knowledge," one of them presen- 
tation or apprehension in which the " knowledge " is not synthetic, 
and the other Cognition which is synthetic, that is, simultaneously 
apprehension and the application of a principle of cognition to it re- 
lating it to something else than itself, and giving the first form of inter- 
pretative conceptions. It was like apprehension, however, limited to 
the present state of consciousness in the range of its assertion, though 
adding to apprehension a conception of " objectivity." The third 
form, generalization, extended judgments so as to universalize them 
and to assume or assert the necessity of at least some of them. But in 
many cases this generalization was conditional, and it left out of ac- 
count those generalizations which could not represent " necessary " 
truth, but which are conceived as more or less probable, even when 
associated with a certitude of feeling which could not easily be distin- 
guished from convictions that we do not represent as probable. This 
class of cognitions or judgments have a modality representing less co- 
hesiveness and inexpugnability of conviction than those associated with 
absolute certitude and necessity, which were represented in apprehen- 
sion, cognition and some instances of generalization of the a priori 
kind. This body of " know^ledge," if that term can be used to denom- 
inate it, whose modality is probability of some kind or degree, is a 
large one and is very complex in the nature of its genesis and content. 
It consists of what may be called associational or inferential syntheses 
and empirical generalizations. Their nature and degree of validitv are 
subject to what is called " scientific method." This conception will 
have to be examined with some care. 

" Science " and " philosophy " in a very common usage, have the 
two meanings which are defined by the terms " Induction " and " De- 
duction." This distinction between them came about by the associa- 
tion of their activities with the methods that described them. The 
Scholastic period, dominated wholly by the philosophy and logic of 
Aristotle, was introspective and deductive in its methods. The revolt 
against it, formulated by Bacon, but initiated by many others like 
Copernicus, Galileo and Kepler, was described as inductive and extro- 
spective. This opposition of their methods resulted in very much 
determining the distinction between the two fields of reflection, so that 
the expression " scientific method" came to be synonymous with the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 231 

idea of " induction " and opposed to that of " deduction," and as 
" deduction " was uniformly regarded as a mode of ratiocination, so 
also was " induction," and " scientific method " is often made inter- 
changeable with this idea. Let us examine briefly how this came to 
occur. 

The whole scholastic movement was, as I have remarked, under 
the influence of the Logic of Aristotle. Its whole conception of the 
problem of " knowledge " was determined by this fact. The period 
had abandoned the study of nature, as I mentioned earlier, because the 
world in which it was interested was superphysical as well as super- 
sensible, and its organon of truth regarding it was faith until it found 
it necessary to " prove " its faith. The realization of this need intro- 
duced the application of Artistotle's Logic, the study of nature 
" inductively " not being supposed to be necessary. Its method, 
therefore, was the syllogism. All " knowledge " certifying faith had 
thus to be ratiocinatively determined. Deductive logic became the 
supreme and only organon of truth and " knowledge." The effect 
was to substitute " reason" or reasoning for faith and authority, but 
for us the point to be noticed with emphasis is the fact that scholastic 
conception of method Vv^as deductive reasoning. Now it soon became 
apparent to men like Bacon that this process only proved accepted 
beliefs and did not originate them. As I have endeavored to show, it 
only transmitted conviction either from proposition to proposition or 
from person to person and does not originate it. I remarked also, 
what is universally admitted by students of logic, that the syllogism 
cannot prove itself_and that, ultimately, the premises have to be deter- 
mined by some other process than the deductive, and I think, by non- 
ratiocinative processes altogether. Mill thought the basis of deductive 
reasoning was inductive. However this may be, it is clear that the 
deductive syllogism adds no new content to " knowledge " but only 
systematizes what we have and transmits conviction from the general 
to the particular case. It was this peculiarity of its function that 
disgusted Bacon with the Aristotelian logic. He saw clearly enough 
that it added no new " knowledge," as material content, to our stock 
of truth. Hence he and his disciples set up " induction " to effect this 
result. The term had been known and used before, as a mode of rea- 
soning opposed to the " deductive," but this idea had dropped into 
desuetude, owing to the causes which disinterested mankind in the 
study of the physical world. But the intellectual habits of the scho- 
lastic period were not wdiolly abandoned, even when the new move- 
ment in the revival of " science " found it necessary to introduce a 



232 THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPIIV. 

new method of " knowledge," as Bacon and his followers still 
regarded their method of discovery a process of ratiocination. The 
opposition between " reason" and faith tended to produce this effect. 
When the latter was questioned as to the ultimate source of truth in 
any matter whatever, it was natural to accept "reason" and the 
equivocations of this term easily lent their support to the interpreta- 
tion of the term " induction," which, as representing the study of the 
physical world, quite naturally suggested opposition to faith as well as 
to " deduction," and so identified its import with the function of 
"reason" which was so generally associated with ratiocination. 
Hence both the older use of the older meaning of the term ' ' induc- 
tion " and the habits of the age treated that idea as a ratiocinative one. 
At the same time the exigencies of the problems of new^ inquiries and 
discoveries and experiments sufficed to carry into the term all the con- 
ditions and assumptions associated with what now passes for " sci- 
entific method," which represents much more than mere reasoning. 
Consequently the term " induction" represents two distinct meanings. 
The first is that of a mode of ratiocination opposed to " deductive," 
and the second all those processes which are necessary to the acquisi- 
tion and verification of new " knowledge." The peculiar character- 
istic of deduction is that we can never get beyond the premises in 
w'hat we infer. It is this circumstance that insures certitude in the 
conclusion wdien all the formal conditions of the syllogism have been 
satisfied and the premises are accepted. The fundamental feature of 
inductive reasoning is that it takes us beyond the premises and at least 
appears to supply new " knowledge." It is this fact that prevents it 
from giving assurance of a positive kind to the inference so drawn. 
But it was the historical restitution of the study of nature that deter- 
mined the conception of the term for the modern mind and not its 
formally ratiocinative character, so that it came to mean any process 
other than introspection and deductive reasoning and so the source of 
new " knowledge." Consequently there was confusion between its 
import as a i"atiocinative process which was distinct and opposed to 
deduction and its import as "scientific method" which included 
deduction. 

The best illustration of this confusion is Mill's "Logic." This 
work is in fact not a treatise on formal logic at all. It is a presenta- 
tion of scientific method which may include at least a part of logic. 
Mill seems never to have understood what the science of logic was 
and what it was intended for. With Bacon and his school he saw- 
clearly enough that deductive method could never determine for us the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 233 

laws of nature and that, when the acceptance of the premises was 
concerned, deduction could not ultimately certify them. Hence he 
dismisses the subject of deduction with very short shrift in his work, 
maintaining that the process was wholly subordinate to induction and 
that its premises were derived from induction. This view will be 
true or false according to the wider or narrow meaning of the term. 
If " induction ".be synonymous with scientific method which includes 
all processes of apprehension, cognition and "• experience," in other 
words, all the non-ratiocinative functions, the doctrine is quite accept- 
able. But if it is limited to the " inductive" ratiocinative process, it 
ean easily be shown to be inadequate. This is apparent from the 
very nature of the process. As ratiocination, " induction" is coordi- 
nate with " deduction " and cannot be supposed to supply the latter's 
premises. Then again it is noticeable that deductive reasoning trans- 
mits certitude from premise to conclusion, while inductive reasoning 
cannot transmit any such quality to its conclusion. If it supplies the 
premises of deduction and can support no assured truth the deductive 
process is incapable of supplying it because it does not receive it from 
the inductive result. Now Mill tries to prove his case by deductive 
reasoning which his own theory maintains is not valid except as based 
upon induction, and as this affords no assured truth he must admit 
that his argument is worthless. What Mill ought to have seen was, 
that the premises of both inductive and deductive reasoning were fur- 
nished by non-ratiocinative processes altogether and not that one of 
them was the basis of the other. His actual discussion of scientific 
method in its use of observ^ation showed that this view of the case was 
implicit in his system and that it contradicted the attitude taken 
toward deduction as dependent upon induction, in so far as the reader 
would understand that he was speaking of a reasoning process. But 
the fact is that Mill was not clear in his use of the term. He plaved 
fast and loose between " induction " as a ratiocinative process and 
"induction" as scientific method including much more than rea- 
soning. 

The function of deduction is to transmit certitude and necessity : 
the function of induction is to transmit probability. The only reason 
that it cannot do what deduction does is the fact that its conclusion is 
not quantitatively involved in the premises as in deduction. There is 
no "objective" test of the reasoning as in deduction. It is only 
" subjective." There is identity recognized in the premises, but there 
is no indication that this identity is inclusive or that it involves the 
essential qualities of the data concerned. Consequently the inference 



234 



THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 



is not assured, but will have a probability proportioned to a rather 
indeterminate set of conditions "objectively" considered. In both 
deduction and induction there is anticipation of "experience" or the 
future. The process might be called "a priori'' in both forms of 
reasoning, only that the conclusion is not necessary in one of them. 
The strict import of " a priori'' is only anticipatory and not necessity. 
In both cases the reasoning does not represent the phenomenal realiza- 
tion of the facts which the conclusion expresses, but the prospective 
realization of them when the conditions are fulfilled in " experience." 
In one it is the necessity of this occurrence and in the other its proba- 
bility. They forecast the hypothetical certainty or probability that 
" experience" will be the same for the future as for the present and 
past. The inference in deduction represents a necessary truth, but not 
the necessary occurrence of the facts which would involve its phenom- 
enal realization in the future. The inductive inference is probable in 
the same sense. We might call them both " Anteperception," as 
indicating that they anticipate " experience, that is, are related to the 
future in the same way that reapprehension or Memory is related to 
the past, except that they are in no way categorical in their factual 
implications. But it is apparent that both must derive the character 
as well as the matter of their premises by non-ratiocinative processes. 
This fact forces vis to base all scientific method upon some other basis 
than " induction " as a reasoning function. It can have importance only 
as comprehending processes of acquisition antecedent to all forms of 
inference. These are the primary processes already discussed and 
they condition all systematizing functions. Scientific method thus 
becomes the sum of all processes involved in the acquisition and veri- 
fication of " knowledge," whether of the necessary or probable sort. 
It can have no opposition to " deduction" except to that claim that 
deductive ratiocination is the only source of " knowledge." " Deduc- 
tion" is not the whole, but a part of the Avhole and scientific method 
includes it as one of its functions. 

There is a fact in the progress of scientific development which 
conceals this incluslveness of what is meant by "scientific method" 
when strictly defined. It is the circumstance that when what is usu- 
ally understood to be " scientific method" is applied there has already 
been the acquisition of much "knowledge" which is simply called 
" experience." In the books " scientific method " is made convertible 
with the formulation and application of certain rules indicating how 
we acquire and verify certain inferential truths and little or no stress 
is laid upon the simple and primary processes which condition the 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 235 

more complex acquisition of "knowledge," involving all the more 
elementary functions without our explicit recognition of them. 

There is another confusion in the use of the terms " scientific 
method " which grows out of the antagonisms bred by the controver- 
sies between scholastic philosophy with its alleged introspective and 
' ' a p}'iori " or deductive methods . ' ' Inductive " method in supplanting 
the "deductive" claimed only to supply "empirical knowledge" 
and to limit " a priori knowledge " to the formal process of the syl- 
logism, if it admitted anything at all in this process. In this way 
" empirical " came to stand for " inductive " methods and the " a pri- 
ori" for the "deductive" and introspective. This tendency and 
development of conceptions tacitly omits the consideration of all those 
processes of certain "knowledge" which are prior to all inferential 
functions and includes only the possible, probable and conjectural 
generalizations of "experience," involving suspense of judgment on 
all assertions beyond this "experience" and tending, in so far as 
" inductive " excludes certainty and necessity of all kinds, to either 
interpret the idea of "experience" as more or less dubitative or to 
define the area of " induction " as representing the conjectural field 
beyond "experience" and holding conviction in abeyance until some 
mode of verification could assure the truth. This simply means that 
the " empiricist " plays fast and loose between the terms " experience " 
and " induction." Where the former is assumed to give certain 
" knowledge," the latter has to be confined to probable inferences and 
generalization beyond the mnemonic type or simple enumeration. 
But where " induction " is in any way made convertible with " experi- 
ence," instead of being merely based upon it and proceeding beyond 
it, and " experience " is assumed to give any certain "knowledge," 
the term broadens into the larger conception of scientific method and 
cannot be opposed to " deduction" because it does not, in this wider 
meaning, limit its import to ratiocinative action. If any clear thinking 
is to be done in connection with the use of the term " induction," it is 
apparent from this that the equivocation in its usage must be corrected, 
as it cannot do service for both "scientific method" and the mere 
inductive inference which is a very small part of that method. Hence 
with the choice of terms I shall limit the term " induction " to the 
inference by that name and employ the expression " scientific method" 
to denote the complex processes and conditions regulating the pro- 
cedure known as " science," as distinct from mere introspection of the 
mind's conceptions. This method can be applied to mental phenom- 
ena as well as the physical, and even to introspection. But it has 



236 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

developed as a method in the investigation of physical phenomena 
and contrasts with mere introspection and a priori speculation in its 
curtailment of dogmatism and in its emphasis upon experiment. 
Otherwise it in fact includes introspection and deduction as means 
respectively of analyzing conceptions and of verifying discovery or 
systematizing " knowledge." 

But there are two important qualifications which are necessary in 
the definition of " scientific method." The first is that it is as much 
occupied with belief as with " knowledge." The latter term is gener- 
ally used in a sufficiently comprehensive sense to include belief, as it 
is often made convertible with systematization, and belief is this. I 
shall therefore employ the term often to comprehend all of the convic- 
tions which the mind forms by " scientific method," whether necessary 
or probable. When it is required to distinguish carefully the kind of 
" knowledge " involved in any particular case I shall specify it. But 
it must be understood that in the general examination of the functions 
of " scientific method " I shall have both " knowledge" and belief in 
mind in the use of the single term, unless otherwise indicated. The 
second qualification of its scope is that which confines it to the more 
advanced reflective stage of intellectual development. By this I mean 
to say that I shall lay no emphasis upon the elementary processes of 
" knowledge" in the definition of its province. It is true that all the 
primary functions of " knowledge" are necessarily involved in the ap- 
plication of " scientific method " and must be constantly deferred to in 
all advanced stages of investigation. But " scientific method," as it 
characterizes the conscious and reflective or experimental period of in- 
quiry, may be discussed without further allusion to these primar}' proc- 
esses than a reference to what has been said in a previous chapter, and 
in the earlier part of the present chapter which has, so far, been occu- 
pied with the criteria of assured " knowledge," and of that type which 
comes spontaneously and is not necessarilv instigated voluntarilv and 
experimentally. 

I cannot here discuss the subject of Scientific Method on a large scale 
or as fully as it needs to be discussed. It would require a large volume 
for that purpose. It will suffice, so far as I am concerned, to refer to 
the works of Mill, Sigwart, Whewell, Wundt and others, to indicate 
the manner in which I should proceed to deal with the subject both in 
principles and illustrations. I may therefore refer to their works as 
making it unnecessary to develop the subject anew and as sufficiently ac- 
ceptable in their conception of method, whatever be thought of their 
philosophic assumptions, to make elaborate discussion superfluous here. 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 237 

But before outlining its general principles it is important to notice 
a few fundamental characteristics which define the main purpose of 
Scientific Method and so determine its actual applications. While it 
may be said to determine the conditions of all " knowledge " whatever, 
it formulates its rules with reference to the more advanced stages of 
intellectual growth. Hence it appears less as a method of accumulating 
data than a means of estimating the material of earlier acquisition. The 
reason for this is quite simple. Its history has been associated with the 
discovery of new truth rather than the teaching and proof of the old. 
The scholastic period and its non-progressive methods illustrated the 
poverty of everything in material knowledge but what is called " scien- 
tific method," and hence the emancipation from the inertia of deductive 
procedure, naturally carried with it the idea that it was not the possession 
of the existing body of truth that required the attention of science but the 
acquisition of new " knowledge." Consequently, when any question 
of evidence or proof for new discoveries was raised the only source for 
the defendant was to produce a new organon to take the place of the 
old and this assumed the name of " scientific method " in contrast with 
the philosophic and introspective speculations of the preceding age. 
What this infiuence effects is a tendency to conceive and represent the 
work of " scientific method " as chiefly occupied with the certification 
of " experience." This ascribes to it, as its most important function, 
the application of means for testing and certifying the inferences which 
arise on the occasion of various " experiences." It thus becomes pre- 
dominantly a method of determining the degree of certitude or proba- 
bility with which generalizations can be accepted. The primary in- 
terest of man is in generalization, which represents what is true for all 
space and time. In fact " truth" of any kind has value precisely in 
proportion to its connotation for vmiversality. We generally mean by 
it what holds good beyond the present place and moment. Any pres- 
ent event or "experience" which leaves our existence unharmed has 
no such interest for us as the future possibilities of change may have 
for the disturbance of our plans and ideals. What our hopes, whether 
practical, ethical, or religious, require for their realization is some sta- 
bility in the order of things and some confidence in our judgments. We 
wish and need to know what the certainties or probabilities of the future 
will be in order to justify action with reference to the realization of our 
ideals. Consequently we must know when an inference or an expecta- 
tion is founded on a reasonable probability that nature ^vill be uniform 
and that there is some " truth " beyond the phenomenal present, some 
generalizations on which expectation and hope can be based. The 



23S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

consequence of this is that " scientific method " seems to be primarily 
concerned with the results of all those processes which are embodied 
in our inferences from phenomena. But it is in fact occupied with the 
determination of the data upon which inferences can be made and which 
also aid in the verification of inferences when once made. Whatever 
its relation to primary judgments it thus becomes preeminently occupied 
with what are called " empirical " generalizations and the efforts to test 
them or to give them the character of more certain " knowledge." 

I may therefore define Scientific Method as the rational mode of 
procedure by which we regulate the acquisition and verification of 
conviction, of "knowledge" and belief. I distinguish between 
acquisition and verification, not because the method of validating 
them is different, but because they supply different elements of the 
complex whole in " knowledge." Acquisition is primarily concerned 
with the discover}' of facts and especially ^vith new matter or content, 
and verification with the certification of the judgments formed on the 
occasion of acquisition. Acquisition increases content, verification 
increases conviction. But while the same general principles regulate 
the procedure in both cases, it niay be convenient to treat them as if 
they were distinct from each other in their relation to method simply 
to recognize the fact just mentioned. With this established ^ve may 
proceed to analyze the problem more fully. Such an analysis will 
involve two questions. The first is the Processes characterizing 
Scientific Method, and the second is the Principles of Scientific 
Method. 

I. Processes of Scientijic JSIetJiod. 

The several processes involved in the determination of " knowl- 
edge " as here considered may be enumerated as Observation, Experi- 
ment, Classification, Explanation, Hypothesis, and Verification. 
These, however, I think can be somewhat simplified, and possibly be 
reduced to three types, if the terms are properly defined, namely. 
Acquisition, Explanation, and Verification. As they have been 
enumerated above, it is noticeable that, as processes, they do not 
necessarily follow each other chronologically, but will be related to 
each other according to the various contingencies of phenomena. 
Thus experiment might not be resorted to at all and in individual 
cases explanation might not depend in any way upon classification. 
They are consequently elements in the problem that are determined by 
the exigencies of the case, some of them being the resource in certain 
emergencies and others in different circumstances. Moreover classi- 
fication is often regarded as a mode of explanation. Phenomena are 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 239 

often regarded as intelligible when they are seen to belong to a known 
class which is presumably explained. Consequently for general pur- 
poses I may reduce the processes involved in scientific method to three 
types, making observation and experiment subdivisions of acquisition, 
and classification and causification subdivisions of explaiaation, with 
hypothesis and verification remaining, the former the means and the 
latter the proof of explanation. 

I. Acquisition. — This process represents all those primary 
agencies by which conceptions and facts are ascertained and which 
are the phenomena or material for the application of explanation and 
verification. I need not enter into any elaborate analysis of it after 
what has been said of the primary and elementary agencies in ' ' knowl- 
edge." The part of observation is to embody these functions. What 
it is and does I shall not define or discuss but leave to the considera- 
tion of the reader who can consult the works referred to above. 
Including apprehension, perception, conperception, apperception, 
ratiocination, infero-apprehension, consociation, etc., as determinative 
of the data for investigation, its distinctive character consists in its use 
of attention and voluntary effort to acquire more than merely casual 
*' experience " would present, and in its implication that the subject 
observer is a mere spectator of phenomena which he does not himself 
produce, but w^hich, so far as he is concerned, spontaneously occur in 
the order of nature. Experiment is the artificial production of phe- 
nomena combined with observation. It employs the intervention of the 
human will and other agencies to produce phenomena which might 
not spontaneously occur in nature or to repeat and multiply those 
which may casually occur and thus increases the chance for careful 
observation. It endeavors to reprodvice phenomena with fewer com- 
plications than such as might naturally accompany "experience." 
But both experiment and observation are concerned in the discovery of 
facts .^ of phenomena or events, which are the data of explanation. 

3. Explanation. — Briefly defined explanation is simply the con- 
scious application of the categories to facts. Cognition as a primary 
process of " knowledge " may not represent any consciousness of the 
principles applied to apprehensions or phenomena. It is, so to speak, 
instinctive or intuitive, an unanalyzed mode of thought when the process 
first occurs. But explanation represents the reflective stage of thought 
when the ideas of kind and of causality have become conscious objects 
of " knowledge," and so applies them with reference to some particu- 
lar conception of kind or cause as distinct from the general or abstract 
conception which has the character of an ultimate assumption, repre- 



240 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

senting a condition of thinking at all, not the " empirical " fact 
thought. Thus I have already said that perception and conperception 
gave only the general and undefined fact of a cause or ground and 
apperception that of similarity without regard to the question whether 
it is essential or accidental, and so do not specify the kind of cause or 
the necessary relation of the things apperceived. But after " experi- 
ence " has taught us to group phenomena together in a definite sub- 
ject or facts in a class we may consciously use this subject or type for 
rendering new " knowledge " intelligible. The functional activity of 
the mind is the same in cognition and explanation, but the content of 
the two may be different, the one being more simple and the other 
more complex. Take an example. Cognition may give the convic- 
tion that " rain " has a cause or ground for its existence or occurrence, 
but it may not know what particular thing or fact is that cause. 
Hence the judgment, " It rains," which is the simplest form of an 
intensive judgment of cognition. But when we know more about 
the phenomenon and its connections, all of which are acquired by some 
process of apprehension, cognition, association and consociation, we 
may be able to assign the effect to the influence of temperature on 
atmospheric vapors. We may see a color, say red, and cognition will 
tell us nothing more than it belongs to a ground or cause, but expla- 
nation of a definite kind will say whether it belong to an apple or ball. 

Explanation, therefore, while it applies the categories, has a refer- 
ence to phenomenal relations, the coexistence and sequence of phe- 
nomena, which the primary mental processes do not, even though the 
latter may imply them. It is simply a more advanced and complex 
stage of mental action, and involves the use of phenomenal facts and 
groups of them as representatives of the causes aiid grounds by which 
the mind nriakes facts intelligible. It is governed by two principles or 
categories, the ratio essendi and the ratio Jietidi. The former repre- 
sents the principles of identity and difference and the latter the princi- 
ple of causality. The application of the ratio esse?tdi or principles 
of similarity and diversity determines classification, or the unification of 
phenomena in kind, and the application of the ratio Jiendi determines 
causification, as I shall call it, in contrast to mere classification, and 
means the assignment of causes. 

Now explanation may be kiioxvn or conjectural . Known expla- 
nation will also take two forms, cognition and generalization on the 
principle of identity, that is a priori generalization. I have already 
discussed this type of explanation. Conjectural explanation is induc- 
tive in nature and represents the formation of hypotheses and " empir- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 241 

ical " generalizations. Their verification is the last step in the deter- 
mination of " knowledge," previous steps being hypothetical. Now, 
as hypothesis is the most important characteristic or agency in ^vhat is 
called " inductive method," and represents the step by which a given 
explanation of a phenomenon is proposed it will be necessary to exam- 
ine it somewhat carefully. 

3. Hypothesis. — An hypothesis is a szipposition., an inference of 
the inductive type, and consequently represents what the mind thinks 
may be a fact or cause not immediately presented in " experience" at 
the time the hypothesis is formed. To illustrate, take the Copernican 
system of astronomy. Copernicus observed certain complex relations 
involved in the Ptolemaic system and conjectured that a simpler theory 
for the explanation of the apparent motion of the sun around the earth 
■was the motion of the earth around the sun. This inference did not 
guarantee its own certitude, but had to be consistent with other facts 
beside the possibility of it in terms of the mind's conception of it. I 
see drops of water on the grass in the morning and infer that they are 
due to the influence of cold air on the vapors suspended in the air. I 
hear a certain kind of noise and infer that it is caused by the approach 
of a street car. I notice the fall of objects when tuisupported in the 
air and suppose that the gravitation of the earth extends indefinitely in 
space. All these have to be verified in some way before they become 
more than hypotheses. 

But the fundamental quality of an hypothesis has not been re- 
marked. I have only said that it is an inference of the inductive sort 
and illustrated the application of the term. We must indicate its 
essential characteristic in order to define it accurately. I identify it 
with the process of an inductive inference, as does Whewell, and so 
must define it as the superpositiofi of an idea on a fact. This con- 
ception of it represents it as similar in its general conception as the 
application of a category or principle of judgment to an apprehension 
or phenomenon. The difference between them is the fact that cogni- 
tion is " a priori" while hypothesis is " empirical." The principles 
of cognition represent native laws of thought ; the principles of hy- 
pothesis the use of an "idea" of the "empirical" sort in the same 
manner as judgment uses a category. The fact in the application of 
hypothesis will be given in "experience" or observation, and the 
explanation will be found in the superposition upon it of an "idea" 
or conception which renders the fact intelligible or indicates its cause. 
The hvpothesis is its interpretation or the assignment of its meaning. 
It represents more than is given in the individual " experience " to be 

16 



242 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

interpreted or explained. If it were not more than what is given, an 
inductive inference would not be required, but we should have an 
apjDrehension or cognition or generalization of the a priori type. To 
illustrate the definition of it as the superposition of an " idea" on a 
fact, take Kepler's theory of planetary motion. This theor}' was that 
the planets revolve about the sun in elliptical orbits. All that the 
Copernican theory maintains was that the planets moved abovit the sun, 
but it did not definitely determine the nature of this motion. Now, 
the facts in Kepler's observations were certain determinate positions of 
the planets in space as observed at different times. He noticed that 
these positions represented or coincided with points in an ellipse. He 
therefore simply inferred that an ellipse represented the w^hole line of 
the orbit. He found a part of an ellipse in his observations and in- 
ferred the rest. That is, he superposed the known "idea" of an 
ellipse upon the facts which represented points in such a line. This 
inference was verified by further observations. The Newtonian hy- 
pothesis of gravitation was formed in a similar manner. The obsers'ed 
fact was falling objects and the doctrine of terrestrial attraction as 
determining the motion of these objects. The hypothesis was the 
extension of this attraction to other and celestial bodies, explaining 
their elliptical motion. In the Keplerian hypothesis the " idea " super- 
posed was that of an ellipse already known in mathematics, and in the 
Newtonian hypothesis the "idea" superposed was that of terrestrial 
attraction and the balance of centrifugal and centripetal forces. 
Another illustration of hypothesis is Franklin's identification of elec- 
tricity and lightning. Certain common facts in the phenomena of both 
were observed and their identity in other respects inferred from these. 
The " ideas " known in electrical phenomena \vere simplv superposed 
on the fact of lightning. That is, lightning was interpreted or ex- 
plained as a form of electricity. The volcanic theor}- of the earth's 
center is another instance. The hypothesis of evolution ^vas the appli- 
cation of the " ideas " of continuity and the variation of domestic spe- 
cies under cultivation to the origin of species in general. The same 
principle will be found in all legitimate hypotheses. 

The resemblance of this procedure to the use of the Categories in 
judgment, as Kant treated it, is quite apparent. Kant's categories 
were "a priori" while the "ideas" which are superposed in the 
inductive process are "empirical," though I should not object to the 
use of '•'• a priori^' in these cases. What lam maintaining is inde- 
pendent of the genesis of the concept applied or superposed. I call 
attention to the relation of the process to Kant's doctrine to show that 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 243 

the inductive activity of the mind is fundamentally like the deductive, 
and differs only in the modality or certitude of the result. In " a pri- 
ori'" judgments the modality is certitude or necessity ; in " empirical " 
or inductive judgments it is possibility and probability. 

There are, however, certain conditions of legitimate Iwpothesis. 
Suppositions cannot be made ad libitti.ni and without reference to 
relevancy. They are subject to certain limitations in their application. 
Two rules probably suffice to regulate their legitimacy. 

(a) An hypothesis should not be inconsistent with known facts 
and causes, but in the attempt to explain new phenomena should be 
shown to conform to the known in essential characteristics. That is, 
the new hypothesis must have some continuity with past " knowledge." 

To illustrate : Newton's hypothesis of vmiversal gravitation appealed 
to the admitted attraction of the earth for falling bodies and only 
extended its operation indefinitely in space. He said of his doctrine, 
" hypotheses non Jingo.'" Kepler appealed to existing ideas of 
ellipses, Copernicus to our conceptions of motion and its cause to 
remove the perplexities of the Ptolemaic system. Darwin appealed 
to the struggle for existence, domestic variation, and the continuity of 
different species to justify the theory of evolution. The theory of dew 
could depend on the law of aqueous distillation. As examples of 
illegitimate hypotheses take the cases of " materia pinguis," fatty 
matter, and " lapidifying juice " to account for the traces of fossils in 
the rocks, instead of using what we know of deposits on the shores of 
rivers and bays. Also the arbitrary assumption of the Italian philos- 
opher who sought to reconcile the Aristotelian and Platonic theory of 
the rotundity of heavenly bodies with the supposition of Galileo, 
proved by observations with the telescope, that the moon had a rough 
surface, by imagining that the hollow parts were filled with transpar- 
ent crystal which would permit the same appearances of light and 
shadow as those which we obsen^e. This was an unnecessary sup- 
position made inerely to remain consistent in some absolute sense with 
the a priori assumption that the heavenly bodies were perfectly round 
because nature tended to perfection. 

(J)) An hypothesis should permit the application of deductive 
reasoning, or of inferences to consequences which are capable of 
comparison with the results of observation or verification thereby. 

As an illustration of hypotheses which do not conform to this rule 
we have the old theory of phlogiston as an assumed explanation of the 
phenomena of heat. It was only another term for the facts themselves. 
Every legitimate hypothesis must represent some other fact than those 



244 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

needing explanation and hence a fact from which can be deduced the 
probability or certainty that consequences not yet observed will follow. 
Thus if I suppose that the attraction of the moon causes the tides, I 
can infer that there will be a certain mathematical relation between the 
moon's mass and the height of the tides. Observation verifies this. 
Again if we suppose that gravity acts on matter in direct proportion 
to its mass we may infer that its velocity in falling will be equal in all 
cases under the same conditions. If the Newtonian hypothesis of 
gravitation be legitimate we can deduce from it the fact that there will 
be a certain law of planetary motion, and if this law is not found to be 
true there will be some difficulty in admitting the Newtonian theorem, 
unless the anomalous discrepancies can be explained consistently with 
the main hypothesis. If iridescence be due to the form of the matter 
in connection with which it occurs and not with the nature of it, then 
we ought to be able to infer that the phenomenon will be producible 
by the artificial creation of this condition as found in the mother of 
pearl. Experiment shows that this is a fact. If the undulaton' theory 
of light be legitimate we should expect to find areas of darkness at the 
point of the intersection of the rays of light, as silence is found at the 
intersection of sound waves. In all such cases the fact or cause which 
serves as the starting point of the hypothesis does more than name the 
fact to be explained. It names other facts with certain known impli- 
cations, so that when we apply the hypothesis to the new phenomena 
we should be able to test the meaning of our application by inferring 
that the theory is more than the new facts and involved consequences 
possibly not observed at the discovery of the new phenomena. 

It inust be remembered, however, that this conformity of hypoth- 
eses to known facts and to the requirement of deductive reasoning 
may not prove the hypothesis to be true. It only establishes its right 
to recognition, and verification may have to come in to complete its 
validity. 

4. Verification. — The verification of hypotheses is their " proof," 
or is the process of testing their validity. When they are first made, 
unless the conditions under which they are proposed at the same time 
satisfy the demands of assured truth, they are held more or less in 
abeyance and suspense of judgment. They are simply probable or 
legitimately possible to the extent of being tolerable. The desire of 
the mind is to see them " proved." Consequently in various ways we 
seek the evidence of their validitv in facts that increase the tenacity of 
conviction. The facts which verify an hvpothesis may be of the same 
general kind as those which suggest it, and only serve to indicate that 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 245 

uniformity of nature which helps to sustain belief in the processes 
which explain the phenomena suggesting a theory. It should be 
noticed, however, that verification does not add, or does not require to 
add, to the material content of "knowledge" in the process of proving 
hypotheses. Its chief function is to affect the modality of judg- 
ments already formed and not to suggest them. It is a process for 
increasing conviction, not for producing new matter of truth. Hence 
it is an evidential^ not an explanatory function of belief. It seeks to 
establish conviction, not matter of consciousness. We found that 
explanation involved the ratio essendi and the ratio Jiendi of phenom- 
ena and things, that is, content of belief and "knowledge." Now 
verification is based upon the ratio cog'nosce?zdi^ of " knowledge " and 
belief. It represents the evidential criteria which increase conviction 
in cases where it is but provisional to start with. The facts and con- 
ditions may be capable of suggesting either the hypotheses confirmed 
or new ones to be further tested, but used for verification they only 
increase the tenacity and cohesiveness of belief in the suppositions 
otherwise suggested. Consequently in thus attesting hypotheses or 
supplying them with the ratio cognoscendi^ verification simply acts 
as a criterion of truth, and may reach all the way to " proof," though 
its purpose is satisfied if it simply increases the probability of the 
supposition with which it starts. 

The various processes of verification are Observation, Experiment, 
Deduction, and Induction. These, of course, are only the continuation 
of the processes which may give rise to hypothesis, except that they 
are expected to supply additional facts in support of the inference first 
suggested. They are all based upon the Principles of Scientific 
Method still to be considered, and may be illustrated briefly in the 
following manner. 

When Newton first thought of the law of universal gravitation, he 
was not content with its power to explain the single phenomenon 
which suggested it, but he saw that certain other facts must follow 
from it or be associated with it. He therefore set about a mathema- 
tical calculation to see if the result coincided with what ought to occur 
in the case and seeing that it did not, he gave up his theory until new 
data, some ten years latter, were discovered regarding the true distance 
of the moon from the earth. He then resumed his calculations and 
found that the result coincided with his hypothesis. He regarded this 
as a verification of it. When the hypothesis that all gases are com- 
pressible into liquids or solids was advanced, it was at least a partial 
verification of it to have succeeded in compressing hydrogen into a 



246 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

a liquid under a low temperature and high pressure. When the Coper- 
nican theory of jDlanetary motion around the sun was proposed and the 
explanation of the phases of the moon was accepted, it was argued 
that Mercury and Venus ought to exhibit similar phases. This was 
admitted by the advocates of the Ptolemaic theory even and stated 
as contrary to actual observation. But when Galileo turned his tele- 
scope upon them the inference was verified by the discover}- of these 
phases. An experiment of Sir David Brewster's showed that irides- 
cence was due to the form and not to the nature of the substance of 
mother of pearl. He took a wax impression of mother of pearl and 
produced the same effect as in the substance of pearl. 

These illustrations suffice to show what the function of verification 
is in the determination of conviction in connection with hypotheses. 
Before further discvission of the question it remains to consider the 
principles of scientific method which are operative throughout the 
whole process of acquisition and verification. When these have been 
considered we may ascertain the nature of inductive generalizations 
and their relation to those which seem to have a modality much more 
certain than the "empirical" truths of induction, though scientific 
method may include the means of determining certitude and necessity. 

II. Principles of Scie7itijic Method. 

I have discvissed the various processes by wdiich " knowledge " and 
belief are formed in the application of scientific inethod and it now re- 
mains to examine the principles upon which it proceeds. These prin- 
ciples I shall treat as the ratio cognoscendi of scientific " knowledge" 
and more particularly manifest in the process of verification, though 
they also condition the legitimacy of hypothesis as well. They are not 
constitutive of the nature of judgments as they are to be employed, but 
criterial of their legitimacy. They represent rules to which scientific 
investigation of all kinds must conform, and by " scientific" I mean 
every investigation into the truth of affirmations and negations whether 
in the field of philosophy or the so-called " empirical " sciences. Mill 
describes them as the " Method of Agreement," the " ISIethod of Dif- 
ference," the " Method of Concomitant Variations," the " Method of 
Joint Agreement and Difference," and the " Method of Residues." 
I shall reduce these five methods to two as serving our general purpose. 
Thus the " Method of Concomitant Variations " is onlv a form of the 
" Method of Agreement" in that two different phenomena are simply 
described as agreeing in their variations, and the " Method of Joint 
Agreement and Difference " is only a combination of both of the funda- 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 247 

mental principles while that of " Residues" is one of " Difference" 
pure and simple, so named only because of its special application to 
residual phenomena. But in reducing them to two types of principles 
I shall slightly alter the phraseology. I shall call them the " Principle 
of Coincidence" and the " Principle of Isolation." The former is the 
same as that of " Agreement " and the latter the same as that of "Dif- 
ference." The slight change of phraseology is designed to avoid all 
implications of the categories of Identity and Difference, as explained 
in earlier discussions. There is undoubtedly a close relation between 
them and I should be quite willing to assume and admit that the prin- 
ciples are the same as in the exercises of judgment, but I wish to use 
them here as ratio cog'noscendi^ as evidential criteria, and not as ratio 
esseJidi and ratio Jiendi or as constitutive elements of the meaning of 
judgment. The principles of coincidence and isolation represent the 
conditions on which the formation and verification of hypotheses can 
take place and so represent criteria of legitimacy, not the nature of the 
subject matter of " knowledge " and belief. With this explanation of 
the meaning of the changed phraseology I niay leave the conception of 
the facts and the nature of the " Methods " to the reader to actually 
be identified with the principles of Mill and other writers. 

I . Principle of Coincidence or Ag'reeme?zt. — The Canon of Co- 
incidence or Agreement may be defined as the principle which deter- 
mines the probability of a given identity or connection on the ground 
of the actual frequency of certain resemblances or coincidences undef 
varying conditions. Or more simply still, the coincidence or agreement 
of two phenomena in respect of the equalities producing them or in re- 
spect of the connection in which they occur, is a criterion of their cause, 
vs^hether material or efficient. 

To illustrate : If I discover that rainfall is frequently consociated 
with a certain type of cloud, I may infer that this type of cloud is its 
cause or an index of what the conditions are that cause the rainfall. 
The more frequently that this coincidence occurs the more general will 
be the judgment so passed. If I find that certain flowers turn in the 
dark toward the light, I may infer that the light is the cause. If I find 
that the roots of trees grow in greater quantities and at greater length 
toward water courses, I may infer that the water course is the cause of 
the phenomenon. If I discover certain organic resemblances between 
species, or perhaps I should say individuals, I may infer that they 
belong to the same genus. If two elements agree in a quality that puts 
them in a given class, we may infer that other qualities of that class will 
be found, if these other qualities are regarded as necessary to the type. 



24S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

If I find consciousness always associated with an organism and do not 
find it apart from such, I must infer that it is a function of this organism. 
I must interpret it as I do other functions or properties so found. If I 
frequently find " hard times" associated wdth failure of crops, I may 
infer that there is a causal connection between the two and expect the 
fact always to occur. 

The cogency of the inference is greatly strengthened if the coinci- 
dence is connected with other facts which we would naturally expect 
to be related to the phenomena observed. Thus if we know that trees 
use moisture in the process of growth, it renders all the more probable 
the supposition that the water courses affect the growth of their roots 
toward them. We thus find that the probability or certainty of our 
inference and generalization wall increase in proportion to the coinci- 
dences involved in the phenomena associated and consociated. 

3. Principle of Isolation^ or Difference. — The Canon of Isola- 
tion may be defined as the principle which determines the probability 
or certainty of an inference or generalization by the extent to wdaich 
phenomena and their causes are separated from the connections which 
would make any other cause possible in the case. If two phenomena 
are constantly isolated together from other groups which remain inva- 
riable without the accompaniment of the two under consideration, the 
separated phenomena may be taken as necessarily connected in the 
relation of cause and effect, the antecedent being the cause and the 
consequent being the effect. 

To illustrate : It was inferred from the nature of gravity that it 
acted equally on all bodies and that weight had no inflvience to modify 
the motion of falling bodies. This supposition seemed to be contra- 
dicted by the fact that bodies like lead and feathers did not fall with 
the same velocities. But when the lead and feathers are put in a re- 
ceiver and the air exhausted from it they are found to fall with equal 
velocity through equal spaces in equal times. The isolation of the 
bodies from the retarding influence of the air, which can act with more 
force on the feathers than the lead because of the greater surface exposed 
in proportion to specific gravity, went to show that there can be but 
one cavise of the effect. The inference is conclusive in proportion to 
the certitude that the conditions represent this isolation of phenomenon 
and cause. Again, if I actually isolate a substance from its association 
with another element which has prevented my discovery of it, I have 
the right to assert the existence of a new element. Otherwise it 
might be an instance of allotropism or isomerism. If we isolate an 
individual consciousness from the organism with which it has been 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 249 

naturally associated, \ve prove its independent existence ; that is, we 
prove that it is not a function solely of the organism, but is the func- 
tion of some other subject. The method of coincidence favors the 
supposition that consciousness is a function of the organism, but the 
method of isolation would prove beyond a doubt that it was not so. 
To quote Jevons : " Thus we can clearly prove that friction is one 
cause of heat, because when two sticks are rubbed together they become 
heated ; when not rvibbed together they do not become heated. Sir 
Humphrey Davy showed that even two pieces of ice when rubbed 
together in a vacuum produce heat, as shown by their melting, and 
thus completely demonstrate that the friction is the source and cause 
of the heat. We prove that air is the cause of sound being communi- 
cated to our ears by striking a bell in the receiver of an air pump, as 
Hawksbee first did in 17 15, and then observing when the receiver is 
full of air we hear the bell ; when it contains little or no air we do not 
hear the bell. We learn that sodium, or any of its compounds, pro- 
duces a spectrum having a bright yellow double line, by noticing that 
there is no such line in the spectrum of light when sodium is not 
present, but that if the smallest quantity of sodium be thrown into the 
flame or other source of light, the bright yellow line instantly appears." 
All these cases are instances of the principle of isolation. 

It is possible to maintain that the principles of coincidence and 
isolation may be cooperative in many instances in v\^hich our convic- 
tions are formed and verified. These instances would be such as those 
in which coincidence suggests what isolation proves. But it will not 
be necessary to more than admit this fact as a possible one, as I am 
not here developing a guide for the practical investigator in all fields 
■of investigation, but only indicating the general principles which reg- 
ulate convictions in any case and so suggest the primary canons of 
epistemology, when it comes to legitimizing and verifying the judg- 
ments and generalizations which define belief and "knowledge." 
Some judgments have so little probability when first suggested that 
the mind seeks some way to decide which side of the issue its allegi- 
ance may support. In mathematics there is no difficulty in deter- 
mining what is true and what is false. But in the inductive sciences 
and in all those generalizations v^^hich represent various degrees of 
probability, it is sought to investigate the integrity of statements and 
to confirm them in the various ways intimated. The reason for this is 
that probability has degrees ; certitude and necessity have not. Prob- 
ability denotes a modality extending from an incipient belief of the 
xnerely possible sort to convictions which are so tenacious that doubt of 



350 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

them seems difficult. Within this range of probabiHties there is a 
great need of such criteria as I have defined and illustrated in the 
principles of coincidence and isolation. They are applied to test the 
validity of a judgment and its extent, and it will be acceptable in pro- 
portion to the constancy with which the phenomena to be explained 
occur in the same or different connections. The conviction may 
have but a slight probabilit}- in its initial stage and then reach proof in 
its final stage, which will occur in the application of the principle of 
isolation. The whole process will indicate the extent to which asser- 
tions can be made universal or necessary, or not. In all stages inter- 
mediate between the primary acts of the mind and the application of 
the principle of isolation, which is practicalh' the realization of the 
conditions defining the primary, the generalizations will be more or 
less contingent and " empirical." It is the business of investigation, 
analysis, and the application of scientific method to determine the 
measure of certitude and probability accruing to judgments thus re- 
lated, and it succeeds in proportion to our ability to use the principles 
which I have defined and illustrated. 

The analysis of scientific method was undertaken in order to deter- 
mine the character of certain forms of judgment which \vere not self- 
evident and whose universality and necessity were subject to doubt. 
Thus we found in such propositions as 3 -f- 3 are 4 statements that 
were accepted as certain and necessarily true, but in such statements 
as " All oranges are yellow," we had judgments which might not 
seem to be necessarily true. We could easily conceive that " oranges " 
might be white or red. Hence it would appear that the only truth 
assignable to such propositions would be " empirical," that is, mne- 
monically true, "universal" within the limits of "experience" and 
not necessarily so for future " experience." Hence it became neces- 
sary to examine the processes and principles which determine such 
propositions as distinct from those of mathematics. They were found 
to be more or less contingent and the question arises \vhy they are so. 
The general answer was, of course, that in mathematics we were deal- 
ing with a static world, and in physics with a dynainic ^vorld, a 
system of phenomenal changes. The contingency of judgment in the 
latter world is just as certain as its necessity in the former, and yet 
there were found a svstem of judgments in the physical or substantive 
world with quite as cohesi\e a character in the relation between sub- 
ject and predicate apparently is in the static world. The question 
was to determine whv this is the case. The answer is that scientific 
method shows a measure of constancv even in the world of change 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 251 

and in that proportion we can affix cohesiveness to judgments repre- 
senting the relations of phenomena. 

In order to understand the use of the principles of scientific method 
in the study of judgments it may be well to review their nature and 
types somewhat briefly. We had originally two kinds of judgment, 
intensive and extensive. The former are always substantive and the 
latter may be either substantive or mathematical. Universality and 
necessity could be predicated of mathematical propositions, owing to 
the quantitative and qualitative identity of subject and predicate. 
Their validity is never in question. But we found some confusion in 
the problem as affected by intensive judgments. In their pure form 
as defined, their universality is not a friori. That is we cannot say, 
except hypothetically, assuming that conditions remain the same, 
that the union of subject and predicate holds good for all time and 
space, which is what an a priori and necessary judgment must do. 
We found it necessary, therefore, to distinguish between the formal 
and the real intensive judgment. The formal intensive judgment 
exhibits the same form of expression as the real, but the mind may 
substitute the idea of an attribute for that of substance in thinking of 
the subject, so that we have an association of two attributes or 
phenomena in the proposition instead of an association of a substance 
and attribute. This tendency gives rise to the opportunity for intro- 
ducing the principle of identity into the real meaning of propositions 
that are apparently regulated by the principle of causality. The intro- 
duction of identity into them may affect the generalization to an extent 
that renders some sort of forecasting of the future possible. In what 
sense this is possible I shall examine in a moment. I shall first repeat 
the considerations which prevent the application of a priori univer- 
sality and necessity to pure intensive judgments. This w^e found to 
be the noumenal and persistent nature of the subject and the phenom- 
enal and changeable nature of the predicate. We found that in the 
substantive world we are dealing with a system of change, except that 
substance itself is supposed to be permanent and constant. Its attri- 
butes change. This fact prevents us from asserting the necessary con- 
stancy of any attribute in space and time though the substantive 
subject be the same, or the same in kind. But as we do not always 
think of the substantive import of our subject terms, taking instead its 
attributive or phenomenal implication as its equivalent, we find that 
w^e may be representing a relation between phenomena not noticeable 
in the merely formal character of the intensive judgment, and this 
relation will be one of identity or difference according to circum- 



252 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

stances. Consequently no a priori generalization regarding the class 
can be made until we determine when the relation is one of identity 
and when it is one of difference. The process by \vhich this is done 
is not easily defined. But it brings out some fundamental considera- 
tions in what passes for the problem of " knowledge." I must 
examine these with the qualifications which they apply to the question 
under review. 

The first thing to observe is that definitions are not existential judg- 
ments, but only an explication of the meaning of terms. Whatever 
a priori universality they obtain is due to the identity of subject and 
predicate and the necessity that the meaning of language shall be uni- 
form whether nature is so or not. The definition does not imply either 
that the thing defined exists or that, if it exists, it shall continue, but 
only that when it exists the term can apply to it. Now this necessity 
of the fixity of meaning for terms is important for all communication 
of " knowledge " or ideas. Unless a term shall have a constant mean- 
ing it is useless to indicate what are the objects of thought and discus- 
sion. Consequently our concepts must have stability of meaning in 
terms of the language \vhich denominates them, whether nature has 
that stability or not. Nature repeats herself enough for us to insist 
upon the constancy of our conceptions amid the changes of facts and 
so propositions embodying definitions may be a prioi'i and necessary 
without implying any existential facts corresponding to them at all 
times and places. A somewhat similar status obtains for certain other 
propositions. 

Now in spite of the fact that a subject in an apparently intensive 
judgment may have a substantive import, in common parlance and 
discussion it does not seem to have this exclusive meaning. We 
noted that in intensive judgments of the pure and real form the predi- 
cate, as a phenomenal fact of " experience," is the ratio cognosceiidi 
of the subject not its ratio essendi (ontological, material cause, iden- 
tit}') , while the subject may be viewed as the ratio Jiendi of the pred- 
icate, the ordo cognitionis being the reverse of ordo 7iat7ircE. But the 
very nature of this relation between the phenomenal predicate and its 
subject (numerical identity, mcmero eadein^ makes the abstract subject 
of cognition convertible with the predicate in so far as conception or 
representation is concerned, and when this is once done the word 
which names the subject is conceived more or less in terms of the pred- 
icate. This is to say, that the predicate is taken to be its essential 
quality which shall always be our criterion of the presence of the sub- 
ject in experience. Whatever substantive meaning the term may have 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 253 

to give the proposition a really or apparently synthetic character the 
subject may denote the predicate by implication and be conceived in 
its terms. We get such judgments as " snow is white " from this proc- 
ess, and when we thus decide to take a certain quality of whiteness as 
the evidence of the presence of the subject, and as the attribute which 
we treat as essential to it, we get a proposition which is like a defini- 
tion in respect to its universality and necessity, but differs from a 
definition only in the non-distribution of the predicate. But when a 
term has once come to be convertible in conception with the phenom- 
enon which is the function or quality of the subject or substance also 
named by the term the real character of an intensive judgment may be 
lost and the synthesis may represent the connection between two phe- 
nomena or attributes. Thus if taste represent the essential quality 
of oranges a yellovk^ color may not be a necessary consequence of the 
presence of this particular taste. It may be a fact that " all oranges 
are yellow," but it may not be a necessary fact that this synthesis 
should exist. Before we should be entitled to assert that the yellow 
color was a necessary attribute of oranges we should have to decide 
that v\^e should not use the term " orange" unless both attributes were 
simultaneously present. This is simply fixing on the conditions under 
which the term shall be used and would make it necessary to employ 
some other term for objects in which the taste was the same as that of 
" oranges" while the color was different. There is no a priori rea- 
son for the synthesis of these two qualities. It is " empirical." The 
convenience of practical life has made it useful to treat the two attri- 
butes together, so that the presence of a certain yellow^ color inay be the 
basis of an inference to a certain taste, and the presence of a certain 
taste inay be the basis for an inference to a certain color, the color 
being the equivalent of " orange" for sight and its sapidity the equiv- 
alent for taste. The employment of both qualities for determining the 
meaning of the term only indicates the desire to prevent the term from 
becoming equivocal and to fix its import so that whatever universality 
it may have this characteristic may not conflict any more than is pos- 
sible with actual " experience." But it will be apparent that the 
whole procedure is " empirical." The whole extent of the generali- 
zation is dependent upon the amount of coincidence in " experience" 
between a given taste and a given color, and it can never take the form 
of necessity as an existential judgment, unless we prove that the cause 
of the color is the same as that for the taste and that their connection 
is inevitable from the chemical combinations required to produce the 
orange. It is possible that the majority of our apparently intensive judg- 



254 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ments are precisely like the one just discussed. Wherever they are so, 
it is evident that the measure of their generality and of the cohesiveness 
of the relation between subject and predicate is solely determinable by 
"experience" and dependent upon the principles of coincidence and 
isolation for the measure of certitude which the synthesis shall possess. 
The frequency of their association and consociation in " experience," 
other things varying, creates the probability of their relation in the 
future, but will not make it necessary until the principle of isolation 
has been satisfied. The consequence is that there is nothing in the 
form of propositions that will indicate when their prediction of the 
future is certain, except in mathematical propositions and definitions, 
and such as interpret the meaning of the subject by the conception of 
the predicate, that is, are analytical in Kant's definition of them. The 
modality of all others is problematical. 

III. SuviDiary of Results. 

We have found that the problem of "knowledge" starts with a 
demand for certitude and necessity in at least some of our judgments 
and is finally forced to distinguish between what is probable and what 
is necessary as a condition of preserving any claims at all. It was easy 
enough to show that there were some things of which we are certain, 
but it too often happens that the things of which we are certain are 
not the things for which certitude is sought, and hence the quest for 
data and proof of beliefs which seem too important to remain in a 
merely problematical condition. " Knowledge " of the present moment 
gave no difficulty. All are and were agreed upon that. It is " knowl- 
edge " of the future that represents the important quest. Universal 
and necessary truth claims to determine what is true for the future as 
well as the past and present. Apprehension and memory decide the 
past and present and the question is whether there is anv facultv or 
condition under which propositions valid for the future can be asserted. 
The exigencies of the whole question require us to distinguish between 
the communication and the acquisition, and between the cognitive 
acquisition and the generalization, of " knowledge." Xo\v we found 
that it is only in the process of generalization that any pretense of a 
" knowledge " of the future is possible. All others are occupied with 
present facts. But man thinks before and after. His practical and 
ethical interests require him to know at least some of the probabilities 
of the future in order that he may have a better chance to sur\-ive in 
the struggle for existence. This is very simply illustrated in the rela- 
tion between the senses of sight and touch. Sight is an anticipatory 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 255 

sense and touch is the protective sense. What we see enables us to 
anticipate the risks and dangers of certain tactual experiences and this 
anticipation is only forecasting a future sensation. Man's power of 
survival and avoidance of danger, his power of self-preservation, is 
largely dependent upon this anticipation of the future. Hence his 
desire to " know " it, if possible. Only when he gambles or patronizes 
the lottery does he satisfy himself with mere chance in his conduct. 
In more serious financial business and in his rational conduct he is less 
content with risk. He demands a mortgage or other security for his 
investment, and this presupposes some stability in the course of nature 
or confidence in the honesty, w^hich is only another name for the 
stability of character, in his fellow man. In his religious life he wants 
to know what confidence he may have in the order of the cosmos 
which plants in him ideals demanding an extension beyond the present 
order of things for their realization. In all his affairs, w^hether 
domestic or political, economic or social, moral or aesthetic, material 
or spiritual, he demands some way of counting on the future as a con- 
dition of making any rational plans or ideals practical or obligatory. 
If the seasons are irregular and their return cannot be relied upon I 
refuse to plant my crops. We want some reasonable hope and 
expectation of realizing our ideals if they are to have any validity or 
imperativeness at all. This hope must assume some probability or 
certainty about the course of nature in some respects at least. To 
form a conception of this future man must generalize from his 
" experience " or his cognitions. The ability to do so depends wholly 
upon what is given in that " experience " or cognition. In the worlds 
of space and time we find the static conditions which enable us to 
entertain at least some universal and necessary truths, wdiether we con- 
sider them as formal or material. In the physical or substantive world 
the conditions are different. It is preeminently a dynamic ^vorld, a 
world of change in the phenomenal modes which supply the predicates 
of all propositions, whatever we may think of the changeless character 
of the subject. There is no guarantee whatever of any universal and 
necessary truth in this world of perpetual change, unless it be hypo- 
thetical. This is only to say that we cannot " a priori'^ forecast the 
future in the physical world in any material way. Of course observ^a- 
tion shows a relatively uniform and recurrent law in the happening of 
phenomena, so that in spite of the fact that " nature" is governed by 
a law of change, there are unities, consistencies, uniformities, what- 
ever their conditions, that offer a basis for reasonable expectation of 
the future, and though we cannot draw any hard and fast line between 



256 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the certain and the probable in concrete cases the general field of the 
two kinds of modality in judgment are fairly well determinable. In 
all cases, however, the law is " empirical," that is, based upon obser- 
vation of the actual uniformities of j^henomena, and the future has a 
probability in proportion to the amount of uniformity or coincidence 
involved. Where phenomena exhibit a law of recurrence there is 
some constancy of the conditions which make this possible and gen- 
eralization becomes a safe adventure. But in all cases, ^vhether in the 
mathematical or the material world, the generalization has its validity 
determined by the extent to which it embodies the law of identity and 
difference. In the rnathematical world of space and time the homo- 
geneity of these data, their unchangeableness, is a guarantee for the 
"a priori" universality and necessity of the judgments based upon 
them. In the material world, except in so far as it participates in 
space and time qualities, can its phenomena be predicted at all with, 
certainty. Whatever probabilities generalization may have in this 
world will depend upon " empirical " observation of actual uniformi- 
ties of coexistence and sequence. The assured generalization in these 
circumstances will be mnemonic or that of simple enumeration, but is 
not previsionary or predictive beyond a certain degree of probability, 
as measured by the extent to which the principle of identitv has been 
realized. 

In the mental -world the same law holds good, except the ideal 
world of formal concepts which have no objective existential import 
apart from the occasion of "experience." Their universality is a 
necessity for the communication of ideas, not for the expression of 
existing facts in all places and times. The universality and necessity- 
assumed in any of these formal judgments depends upon the assumption 
that the subject has been conceptually identical with the predicate in 
some respect to make its meaning definite at all. This condition 
makes such judgments a mere means for making facts intelligible when 
they occur, not of assuring their recurrence. They do not predict the 
future, but only what future events wall be, if they occur at all. In 
fact this may even be said of all judgments of the universal and neces- 
sary kind, including the mathematical. I do not find it necessary to 
exempt even these from this law or condition. But this la^v is cer- 
tainly clearer in all these judgments which condition their universality 
upoi:i some real or apparent identification of subject and predicate, 
and in the physical woi'ld this often appears arbitrary. For instance, 
at one time the judgment "All metals have a specific gravity greater 
than water" ^vas taken as a settled truth, but after potassium, sodium, 



THE CRITERIA OF TRUTH. 257 

and lithium were discovered and placed among the metals, as they will 
float on water, the original generalization did not hold. But this was 
because the ratio cognosceiidi of what a "metal" is was changed. 
When that proposition asserting a specific gravity greater than water was 
held to be true it was on the condition that this specific gravity was the 
test of the application of the term and any insistence upon the retention 
of this test would exclude the new "metals" from the class to be 
denominated by that term. It was only the selection of a new criterion 
or characteristic for classification that changed the form of statement, 
though it did not alter the real facts of natvire. But we see in the 
incident that whatever universality and necessity we get in physical 
judgments it must depend upon a real or assumed identity between 
subject and predicate terms, even when the " realities" expressed by 
the term are not in fact identical. The identity may be only uni- 
formity of implication and that suffices to give stability of meaning to 
terms and conceptions, which is necessary to interpret the facts of 
nature when they occur, not to predetermine their occurrence. 



17 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 

In defining and discussing the nature of sensation, 1 called attention 
to the difficulty of distinguishing between sensation and apprehension, 
owing to the fact that they are so closely associated in the same com- 
plex state of consciousness. Indeed, I went so far as to recognize the 
fact that we might consider them as terms denoting the same event 
spoken of in different relations, apprehension being the name for the 
mental reaction viewed as an act of " knowledge " and sensation as the 
name for the same reaction as the result of stimulus. It may not be 
necessary to conceive the terms as denoting exactly the same individual 
facts, though the occasion of their occurrence seems to be a single one. 
This is especially true if we are likely, in doing so, to imply that the 
state concerned is not a complex one. It is quite possible to conceive 
the mental reaction against stimulus a complex of at least two func- 
tions, which we may call sensation and apprehension and then, in later 
" experience," add to this complex the various functions of cognition. 
But whether simple or complex, it is not necessary to reconsider these 
questions further than to remark that all psychological criticism and 
discussion centering about the primary functions of intelligence soon 
have to meet the question how we can perceive an external world. 
There was no trouble in the early history of speculation in ascribing 
this to " sensation." But as time went on philosophy began to define 
and describe "sensation" as purely "subjective," the mind's affair 
which did not have the meaning for external reality which it was once 
supposed to have, that reality had either to be given up or ascribed to 
some other function, such as " apprehension," " perception," '• intui- 
tion," or judgment. This new way of presenting the case conceded 
that " sensation " was an event in the organism and without any " per- 
ceptive " reference to external reality, so that this presumably desired 
result had to be obtained by naming a special function for the purpose, 
especially wherever idealistic solipsism was not acceptable. Whenever 
the puzzling question as to how we could " know " external reality was 
raised, if " sensation" were subjective, the common sense philosopher 
had only to name "intuition" or "perception" as the process. But 
such an answer has not alwavs prove'd satisfactory and the question 

25S 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 259 

still persists wherever we are impressed with the "relative," "phe- 
nomenal" or subjective nature of "experience." 

In discussing the process of synthetic " knowledge " or Cognition, I 
endeavored to present processes that justified a belief in objectivity, an 
external world, without conditioning it upon a theory of space. I 
relied upon the principle of causality for the evidence of an external 
world, using the idea, however, to denote externality to the phenomena 
to be accounted for rather than the externality of space intuitions. I 
come now to discuss the same general problem in connection with the 
"perception" of space, which I think the question best calculated to 
consider in connection with the " perceptive " process in relation to 
sensation. It seems possible to condition our "knowledge" of exter- 
nal reality upon two processes instead of one, namely, the categories 
of space and causality combined. There can be no doubt that space 
appears in our ordinary conception as the chief factor, but I think that 
the total of our judgment will be found to comprehend both, causality 
as determining the indefinite notion of otherness than a given fact and 
space the definite sensory datum for its clearness. I do not mean that 
causality can give anything spatial, but that the complex conception of 
objectivity is associated with both space and cause as determinative of 
it. In the physical universe objectivity is usually spatial as well as 
causal, and it is space that indicates the plurality of the elements con- 
stituting the known cosmos when their causal relation with each other 
reveals their vmity of action and with the mind their existence. Bvit 
however this may be, a position not necessary to affirm here, the place 
which the idea of space has in the determination of externality makes 
it important to examine our perception of it as a step in the analysis of 
" knowledge" and in the interpretation of nature. The concrete form 
which externality takes in our conceptions is represented by some 
spatial relation and as the determination of this is closely associated 
with sensation and " perception " or apprehension, the process of reach- 
ing externality and objectivity can be best studied in those " phe- 
nomena" of experience which can be analyzed into their elements and 
their function in the w^hole determined accordingly. By this I mean 
that what " perception" really does in connection with objectivity can 
be studied in connection \vith space " intuitions " more effectively than 
in any other " phenomena." 

There are two closely related problems in space " perception " 
historically considered. The first is the genesis and the second 
the 7iature of the conception of space. The theories of genesis 
divided into "empiricism" and " nativism," and those of its nature 



26o THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

into the realistic or objective and the idealistic or subjective nature 
of space. 

It was the doctrine of Kant that gave importance to the problem of 
space " perception." Had it not been for that philosopher's paradoxi- 
cal assertions about the nature of space and its "perception" we 
should have probably taken this datum of " knowledge " as a dogmatic 
object of faith much as did the Cartesians and Lockians. Previous to 
Kant no special theory of ' ' knowledge " or metaphysics depended so 
absolutely upon any particular doctrine of space and its " perception," 
or drew such consequences from them as did Kant. This theory con- 
sisted in a double qualification of its nature. He described it as a 
" form of intuition " and qualified this as a priori and subjective. Ex- 
actly what he meant by this will be the subject of further inquiry again, 
but it pointed to idealistic associations as the development of his phil- 
osophy has shown. In the ^Esthetic Kant admitted that space was 
also objective as Avell as subjective, and in the Analytic he seems to 
regard it as wholly subjective. But leaving real or apparent incon- 
sistencies aside, the spirit of his position in both looks toward a con- 
ception of space which has always appeared as paradoxical to common 
sense, namely, that it was an ideal and subjective product of the mind. 
That it was a "native" or " intuitive perception" \vas the generally 
accepted doctrine after Descartes, but no one had attempted to describe 
this "native perception " as subjective until Kant ventured ujDon the 
assertion. The consequent idealization of "knowledge " and " reality," 
whatever such idealization meant, had so many revolutionary implica- 
tions in philosophic thought that it created much offence in the ranks 
of common sense and science. Common sense did not like the ideal- 
ism founded upon it and the scientist did not like the doctrine of the 
" a priori" which appeared so antagonistic to his theory of " experi- 
ence." \yiththe one the reduction of everything to states of mind was 
absurd and with the other induction and experience were the sources 
of all " knowledge." Both schools of thought conceived it their in- 
terest to attack the Kantian doctrine of idealism, assumed to be as absurd 
to the scientist as to common sense, by depriving it of its foundation, 
which as I have said, Kant had placed in the a priori and ideal nature 
of space and time. The scientific man attacked its a priori nature and^ 
the common sense philosopher its ideality. Between the two it was 
hoped to eradicate idealism and a priorism. The consequence "was a 
vast literature and direct experimentation to determine the issues raised 
by the alleged significance of the Kantian doctrine. The fact, how- 
ever, was that the Kantian svstcm was less dangerous to science and 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 261 

less antagonistic to the existing philosophy as a whole than was sup- 
posed. The real conflict between science and transcendentalism lay in 
their associations. The one was liberal and the other conservative in 
its affiliations. Science had attached itself to progress and revolu- 
tionary tendencies. Transcendentalism, whatever its sceptical im- 
pulses, had easily adjusted itself to the conservative institutions of 
society resisting change and the dissolution of tradition. As the whole 
apparently revolutionary system was consciously made to depend upon 
the a priori and subjective nature of space and time, the scientific mind 
resolved to remove this keystone to the arch of the structure and con- 
sequently directed his experimental investigations to proving that space 
*' perception" was " empirical," assuming that he had not to discuss 
any of the larger philosophic problems ostensibly founded upon the 
Kantian theory of space and time. The common sense philosopher, 
with the same object in view and admitting the a priori or " intuitive " 
nature of space and time, attacked their ideality. 

The outcome, however, has not been what was expected. It was 
thought that the refutation of the a priori " perception " of space would 
disqualify the idealism founded upon that doctrine, but, as the Nemesis 
of scepticism would have it, Wundt, an empiricist in the doctrine of 
space " perception," definitely claims that this view affords a better basis 
for the Kantian idealism than Kant's own conception of its condition. 
In fact the solution of the problem has been found not to be so easy as 
was at first imagined. The complexities and equivocations involved 
in the conception of space suffice to take the dogmatism out of both 
theories of its genesis, and now no one cares whether space ' ' perception " 
is " empirical " or " a priori.'''' No such philosophic consequences for 
its nativity as Kant claimed for it are so uncompromisingly recognized, 
and " a priori " has come to imply its subjectivity as much as anything 
else. The controversy has changed from its genesis to its nature, 
whatever its genesis. Hence the issue has completely shifted from the 
psychogonical to the epistemological problem which lies on the 
boundaries of metaphysical speculation. 

A few remarks inay be necessary at the outset of our study of this 
question in order to indicate what we shall have to face in the conclu- 
sion. They pertain to the complexity of the problem \vhich is, much 
greater than Kant ever supposed. If we could assume that the " per- 
ception" of space involved no complexity of function and judgment 
and if we could assume that the conception of it involved no definition 
and analysis prior to the study of its genesis we might very much sim- 
plify our problem. But we have learned from various experimental 



262 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sources that it is one of the most complicated of our psychological 
questions. It is not a problem of metaphysical consequences attaching 
to any theory of origin but only to its nature, and besides the whole 
question of origin is so complicated by the complexity of the elements 
entering into the idea of space that the philosophic interest attaching 
to the former conception of its simplicity has been lost. 

In choosing between nativism and empiricism, as theories of 
space " perception," we have first to ask whether the question with 
one or the other of these theories is that of definite or that of indejinite 
space, that of localization definitely represented, or that of the general 
space quale which we distinguish from other and associated charac- 
teristics in the sensation. Accepting the distinction between definite 
and indefinite space the theories of empiricism and nativism might be 
reconciled, if that term is usable, by dividing the territory, empiricism 
taking that of definite space or localization and nativism taking that of 
indefinite space or the extensive quale. 

But the problem is still more complicated, and in a twofold man- 
ner. There is first the question of the spatial quale in the individual 
senses, especially those of vision, touch, and hearing : and secondly 
their relation to each other in " experience." In regard to the first 
of these some will insist that space is not a common sensible, but an 
object of one of the senses and having an associative equivalent in the 
others, something from which the presence of an associated spatial 
quale is inferable. Others will insist that space is a common sensible, 
representing a like characteristic in at least three of the senses. I 
think that much can be said for the truth of both claims though 
with qualifications. It is true that there are elements in the sensations 
of each sense that are wholly different in character from the phe- 
nomena of the other senses. Color and sound have no common quali- 
ties, nor hardness and color, though mutually associable. It is possi- 
ble to view the spatial quale of each sense in the same way, except 
that there must be something common about the spatial element in 
order that the term "space" may be legitimately applicable to the 
content at all. But in spite of this the two or more qualia may have 
accompanying differences which it may i^equire experience to eliminate 
for the discovery of the common characteristics. It is very probable 
that the criterial space " percept " is taken from one of the senses, 
usually the visual phantasm, and the others adjusted to this by experi- 
ence and association. 

The view here taken will indicate the answer to the question whether 
the conception of space is abstract or concrete. Kant emphatically 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 263 

denied that it was an abstract general concept, but he gave no definite 
affirmation or description of what it was, except to call it a " pure in- 
tuition," which has no meaning whatever as an intelligible account of 
it. It is probable that Kant took his conception of space wholly from 
vision, from the visual phantasm or expanse. If he ever admitted 
tacitly or otherwise that a space "percept" was possible in other 
senses, he probably conceived it as exactly the same as in vision. 
Kant is absolutelv silent on this matter. If he limited it to the " intui- 
tion " of vision, it is clear why he denied that it was a general abstract 
concept. But as it is possible to recognize a spatial quale in several 
senses and as, with the differential characteristics in them, there are 
data for an abstract concept of space, which is more than probably a 
fact, even if the matrix out of which it is formed is obtained from one 
of the senses and other experiences interpreted in terms of it, we may 
find a basis for an interpretation of its meaning somewhat different from 
the usual one ascribed to Kant. But this conclusion that the idea of 
space may be abstract does not interfere with the main contention of 
Kant that It is unique In Its character aiid that our view of the nature 
of space affects metaphysical problems while its genesis does not. 

In the light of the analysis of space conceptions just indicated, 
showing that they may represent both a definite and an indefinite 
" percept" and both an abstract idea and a number of concrete forms. 
It will be useless to decide the merits of the controversy between em- 
piricism and nativism In any other way than to accord both of them a < 
relative justification. It will then devolve upon us to examine the Jv 1 
nature of space " perception" as a condition of estimating Its relation 
to the " knowledge" of objectivity. 



The immemorial problem of " knowledge " has been connected with^^- ft/» "j^ .^^ 




«H^ 



.V 



the question whether we could ever ' ' know " anything beyond our men-'\i5 ^a^ 'y' 



tal states and affections. This we have Indicated In previous discus- ^"^ I\^ 



slons. In thus defining It, I am not ignorant of the complexities and 
equivocations of such a formula lurking in the terms "knowledge," 
"beyond mental states," etc. I am only stating a form of conception 
which is not of my own making and which at least appears to confine 
"knowledge" to the functions of the organism or mind In the sense 
that Its boundaries are to be defined by the limits of the organism itself. 
It Is not my task here to define or analyze the formula or to determine 
what is true or false In it, but only to indicate for the present that the 
result of conceptions antecedent to the adoption of the formula has 
brought men to state their conclusion in this language with its real or 
apparent import. How this movement began we shall see in a moment. 



264 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

But long after it had seized speculation the triumphant refutation of 
scepticism was based upon the accepted integrity, that is, objective 
import, of our. idea of space and its impregnability against sceptical 
analysis and attack. But the Kantian claim that space is " subjective 
and ideal," whatever Kant meant by it, reanimated the old controversy, 
and, at least in the light of traditional conceptions and implications 
of the terms "subjective" and "ideal," suggested the limitation of 
"knowledge" to states of consciousness in a more radical sense than 
ever. "While previous thought, accepting the relativity of our " knowl- 
edge " of matter, had still remained by the objectivity of space, the new 
position taken by Kant, applying the same language of relativity to space, 
left the imagination with nothing but the subject and its own evanescent 
states as the objects of " knowledge." What it meant in the field of 
"perception" was that we could '■''perceive" only what we have i'in 
experience" : that is, nothing " outside" consciousness, and so at least 
apparently outside the organism, could supposedly be " known." The 
range of the " knowable " was limited to the states " known" or had 
as actions of the subject. 

The " phenomena " of illusions have been the most important influ- 
ence in suggesting the way in which the limits of " perception" shall 
be determined. They indicate that the supposed reality beyond the 
mental state and which is so confidently assumed in normal conditions 
may be nothing more than the subjective act. The resemblance be- 
tween the illusion and the normal state, between the "phenomenal" 
and the " real," is so close that the unity between them is gotten bv 
eliminating the "reality" of the normal, the onlv difference between 
the two being that the " reality" which may be assumed to be infer- 
ential is liable to error, so that ce?'tijjed "" knowledge" appears to be 
confined to the subjective. Valid " perception" seems thus to be re- 
alized as fully in illusions as in the supposed normal consciousness, the 
"reality" of whose external object seems dubious because it is infer- 
ential. Briefly stated again, the formula of the idealistic doctrine seems 
to indicate that we can "perceive" only what we have; that is, 
" knowing" and " being" ai'e identical, or esse is percipi. 

The rise and development of this conception is an interesting bit of 
history. I mean, of course, in reflective and speculative thought. 
The whole doctrine got its inception from the naive materialism of 
Empedocles which was most probably a reflection of common notions 
at the time. The manner in which Empedocles accounted for sense 
perception by the impact of eidola or corpuscular efliuvia upon the sen- 
sorium, eidola which were the facsimile of the objects from which 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 265 

they were projected, appears to us absurd enough, especially from the 
point of view of evidence. But it illustrates clearly the assumption 
that there is some qualitative resemblance between the " impression" 
and the stimulus or cause of sense " perception." The figure of a seal 
and the wax even in Aristotle carried the same implications with it and 
probably affected the conceptions of antiquity to a large extent. The 
Greek admitted the distance of the object from the sensorium, but be- 
cause he could not admit any doctrine of actio in distaiis he could not 
account for the " knowledge" of the object without importing into the 
process the conception of contact with the subject and a structural re- 
semblance between the object and the " impression," probably because 
of his monistic philosophy assuming a larger measure of identity be-| 
tween thought and reality than modern speculation. That is to say,ii 
though " knowledge " was not limited to the subjective state, there was 
some kind of identity between objects and " knowledge," the " reality " 
and the "impression" being similar, while the intermediate distance 
between them was traversed by eidola resembling both of them. 

But this naive corpuscular theory was very soon supjolanted by the 
doctrine that it was not eidola but motion that affected the subject by 
passing through the sjoace intervening between it and the object, and 
hence served as the mediate stimulus of the sensorium as did the 
assumed eidola. Here the whole conception of the case is changed. 
In the Empedoclean view the assumption of identity between the " im- 
pression " and the eidola, and between the eidola and the object, suf- 
ficed to justify the belief about the nature of the object. But in this 
new view, depending upon the mediating and causal agency of motion, 
there was no definite indication at first that motion and object were 
like each other. In fact it was rather distinctly assumed that they were 
different, and as the older conception of the object still prevailed the 
analogy of the seal and the wax did not apply. Consequently, the in- 
evitable tendency of the new conception was to set up an antithesis of 
kind between some of the data involved in sense " perception." There 
were three things to be considered: object, motion and "impres- 
sion." Until Plato came to revise the problem the motion was not 
like the object, and then the problem was to determine how the exter- 
nal object, separated from the " impression " and unlike the mediating 
cause, could be "known." The consequence was, owing to the con- 
tinued prevalence of the assumption that contact was necessary to 
"knowledge," that "perception" was limited to the sensory state, 
whatever that was, and the further assumption made that this state was 
not an indication of the nature of the object external to it. The logical 



266 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

outcome was the doctrine of the Sophists which was reinforced by the 
general relativity of " knowledge," this being based u^^on the fact of 
illusions as well as the assumption of contact with the organism as a 
condition of "knowledge," though the contact was that of the medi- 
ating motion and not the object or an eidolon. The Sophist still 
assumed the identity of the " object" and the '• impression" (thought 
and reality), but he did not locate the " object " beyond the subject in 
his conception of the thing " known." The sense of antithesis remained 
between the external " object " and the " impression," but for " knowl- 
edge " this external "object" was nil^ the "real" object being the 
mental state, and the other remained merely as a concession to inherited 
convictions which were hard to eradicate, even though the logic of 
the case at least apparently requires this to be done. 

The most important thing to remark at this juncture of the case is 
the fact that later thought never returned to the naive conceptions of 
Empedocles for the purpose of rendering the process of " perception" 
phenomenally intelligible. The influence of the conception of motion 
was too great to permit this reaction. The speculative philosopher 
felt obliged in the field of vision, which was considered as the primary 
source of " knowledge," as the statement of Aristotle proves, to aban- 
don the conception of contact as an explanation of " perception " and 
consequently had a perpetual puzzle before him in the question : 
" How can we ' perceive' what is not consciousness, or what is not in 
the contact with the organism? ", or " How can objects at a distance be 
'known' at all?" when what is " known" coincides with the " im- 
pression" involving the idea of contact as the condition of "knowl- 
edge." Presumably objects are not "known" at a distance in tactual 
experience which is the most fundamental source of our conception 
of " sensation," according to the usual assumptions, while vision is 
predominantly the '-''perceptive" sense, as touch is the measure of 
se7isation. In touch the supposed external object and the sensation 
have the same locus, the sensorium or organism : in vision the common 
assumption is that the object is not in contact with the organism, and 
the very existence of it is presumably an inference from the experience 
of touch and other senses where contact is the condition of the reac- 
tion. But as the motion (vibration in modern parlance) which is 
generally supposed to issue from the object does not represent the 
object in kind, but does satisfy the principle of contact, according to 
the accepted view, in vision, while tactual experience and the assump- 
tions associated wuth it determine the tendency to interpret sensation as 
functionally limited to the locus of the sensorium, the inevitable result 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 267 

is to interpret visual phenomena in terms of the principle of touch when 
speaking of sensation, the object in this sense being and acting where 
it is, so that in sight the object at a distance becomes " unknown " and 
the only thing "known" is the " phenomenon " or "experience." 
Apparently we seem forced to interpret vision by touch or touch by 
vision, and as contact and sensation are the condition of representing 
its function, and distance and " perception" the condition of repre- 
senting the function of vision, the only unity of conception between 
them will be found by accepting one or the other as the type, and to 
the idealist that conception is the contact of touch, with the object at a 
distance as " unknown." If the general visual process is to be inter- 
preted by the assumptions of tactual experience, these being in terms 
of contact and its causal meaning, visual " perception " has the same 
limitations on the assumption that this process cannot transcend the 
events occurring in the sensorium. If touch is to be interpreted by the 
analogies of vision, where the object either directly or indirectly 
" known " is su^Dj^osed not to be in contact, we come into conflict with 
the fact that we do not "perceive" the tactual object at a distance. 
The consequence is that we get our unity of conception in the general 
idea of sensation which limits its nature and meaningtothe area of the 
sensorium and the object must be there in order to be " known," or if 
it is supposed to be at a distance, it is apparently a conjectural thing. 
Now as the principle of identity had all along been assumed to deter- 
mine all intelligibility, that is, to make things understandable in terms 
of like kind, this new assumption of an antithesis between thought and 
reality, of difference between sensation and the object causing it and 
not a part of the consciousness " knowing" it, only availed to make 
the object unintelligible according to accepted standards of identity. 
The conception of it at a distance, with motion as the mediating agency 
for affecting the sensorium and the " known" thing being presumably 
only in the subject, results in the tendency to interpret vision by the 
assumptions and conceptions of touch as the standard of judgment, and 
to consciousness the object at a distance is nil or conjectural. Or to 
put the same thought in another way, what is not a qualitative part 
of the "impression" cannot be "known," if the ordinary criterion 
of " knowledge " from the experience of touch be accepted. 

This conclusion, as the conception of philosophy, brings us to the 
doctrine of Berkeley who seems to have been under the influence of as- 
sumptions which he did not analyze. His whole discussion of space 
" perception " was governed by the assumption that what was not " in " 
the sensation or " impression " could not be " perceived." This doctrine 



268 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

was embodied in his formula " esse is percipi." The physiologists 
of the same time evidently took the same view assumptively, though 
they never exactly formulated it. But their conception of the condi- 
tions of " perceiving" space at all involved the idea that what is " per- 
ceived" must be rejDresented in kind in the image or "impression" 
when space was the "percept." 

The most important fact to note in Berkeley's position is his argu- 
ment to exclude the nativity of the visual " percejDtion " of the third 
dimension. It was in clear accordance with the assumptions which 
have just been indicated. The argument used by him against the or- 
ganic and natural " perception" of distance in vision was that the third 
dimension was not found in the image on the retina. At the very out- 
set of the " Theory of Vision " he says : " It is, I think, agreed bv all 
that distance of itself, and immediately cannot be seen. For distance 
being a line directed endw^ise to the eye, it projects only one point in 
the fund of the eye — which point remains invariably the same, 
whether the distance be longer or shorter." In a later section he savs : 
"It is plain that distance is in its own nature imperceptible." 
Again : " From what hath been premised, it is a manifest consequence 
that a man born blind, being made to see, would at first have no idea 
of distance by sight : the sun and stars, the remotest objects as well as 
the nearer, would all seem to be in the eye, or rather in his mind." In 
many other passages Berkeley reiterates the same thought. But these 
quotations suffice to show that he thought the presence of the third 
dimension, or solidity in the visual " Impression," ^vas necessary to Its 
immediate "perception" by that sense. The plausibllitv of the as- 
sumption rested upon the fact that plane dimension was found in the 
retinal image precisely as conceived, \vhlle it was clear from the la-w of 
optics in the transmission of light and the production of images that no 
solidity was present in the " impression." Though Berkeley was care- 
ful to assert over and over again that there ^vas no resemblance between 
the " percepts " of touch and vision, he assumed, in the Interpretation 
of vision the principle of contact and Identity of representation in that 
sense between object and image as necessary to give solidity, and not 
finding this condition present limited the " percept" to the optical 
phantasm and said " esse is percipi.'''' It did not occur to Berkeley 
that the asserted difference between the two senses might Involve the 
instinctive "perception" of the third dimension and that there might 
be other conditions than a spatial quale in the " impression" to deter- 
mine the naturalness of space " perception" in that sense. 

But when he came to discuss the " perception " of plane dimension. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 269 

he denied its nativity on other grounds than the absence of it in the 
retinal " impression," and virtually abandoned the assumption which 
was so necessary to the validity o£ his argument i^egarding solidity. 
He based the denial of the nativity of magnitude or plane dimension 
upon the relativity of its " perception," that is, upon the quantitative 
variations' between the dimension of the image and the dimensional 
quantity of the object seen. He noted the fact that the spatial magni- 
tude of objects remained the same for judgment at any and all dis- 
tances while the image was smaller for the greater than for nearer dis- 
tances. But as his argument against the native " perception" of soli- 
dity was based upon the assumption that, to be " known" directly, it 
must be in the image, he ought to have seen that the admission of plane 
dimension in the retina, whether quantitatively identical and corre- 
sponding to the dimensional quality of the object or not, was neces- 
sarily a guarantee for the nativity of the space ' ' percept " in plane 
dimension, so that the facts to which he appealed to disprove it only 
showed a quantitative difference between the retinal quale and the 
spatial quale of the object. In fact it was logically necessary to admit 
or assume the nativity of plane dimension in order to make the funda- 
mental argument good against the nativity of the third dimension. If 
the absence of a dimension in the image prevents its native " percep- 
tion," its presence there ought to determine this " perception." For 
iFthis is not true there is nothing to prevent the supposition that solidity 
is native in spite of its absence from the retinal image. But since the 
assumption of plane dimension in the retinal " impression," according 
to the use made of it in regard to solidity, enforces a conclusion which 
is contradicted by the conclusion from the relativity of magnitude, as 
drawn by Berkeley, and since his doctrine denied the nativity of space 
" perception " throughout vision, we can only conclude that this denial 
had to be maintained independently of the question whether the retinal 
image contained the dimensional quale " perceived " or not. The 
abandonment of this point of view, however, indicates either that his 
fundamental assumption was not valid or that his consistency required 
him to admit the nativity of plane dimension in spite of the quantitative 
difference between the image and the dimensional quale of the object. 
For on the assumption of the conditions excluding the "perception" 
of solidity, he must admit either the nativity of plane dimension or 
that its presence in the image does not determine its " perception." 
The former alternative contradicts his general doctrine and the latter 
contradicts his assumption necessary to prove the acquired character of 
the third dimension in vision. Now if the presence of the dimensional 



270 THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPHV. 

quale in the image does not necessitate its natural " perception," its 
absence from the image cannot prevent the " perception" of it directly. 
This is the necessary consequence of the whole argument adopted by 
Berkeley, and it means that we cannot assume that the quale " known " 
is necessarily a part of the content or nature of the "impression." 
This fact once granted the whole Berkeleian doctrine becomes ground- 
less. It will be apparent from such a result and from the supposition 
that the "percept" may not be a part of the "impression" qualita- 
tively, that the doctrine of "perception," "intuition" or apprehen- 
sion, as conceived by the phenomenalist or idealist, must be profoundly 
affected thereby, whether for good or ill. Berkeley was unconsciously 
governed in his judgment of the case by the principle of identity, as- 
suming that there must be some identity bet\^'een " impression" and 
"percept" to guarantee the nativity of the latter. If, however, we 
discover that this identity between the quale of image and the " per- 
cept " is not necessary to insure the proper " percej^tion " of the object 
and its quale, we have found a condition of things in \vhich the prin- 
ciple of identity does not supply the only terms of which " knowledge " 
of external reality is assured. We saw this to be true in the treatment 
of judgment and cognitive " knowledge" of realitv, and now the same 
conclusion seems to hold good in regard to the apprehension of space. 
Further discussion may make this clearer. 

We know that Berkeley explained the visual " perception " of space 
by association or suggestion from muscular and tactual experience. 
But It never occurred to him that it was quite as easy to raise the 
sceptical question in regard to the nativity of space In touch as in sight. 
Of course, he was not likely to suspect this, as his assumption of the 
principle of contact and the representation of the quale " perceived " 
in the impression " induced him to accept tactual space \vithout analy- 
sis or scepticism. It was all very nice for a paradoxical philosophy 
to beg the question in one of the senses while applying criticism to 
another. How the association of a tactual quale with vision is possible 
when there is nothing common between two senses, according to 
Berkeley, is not clear in any sense implying a similar object of appre- 
hension. Nothing in vision could be called a spatial quale, so that the 
association could not involve an identical datum. If, In spite of the 
appearance to the contrarv, a space " percept" is not natural to visual 
experience, the sceptical question is as easily raised elsewhere as In 
this sense. In fact, It seems to me, that there Is no more reason to 
suppose that space is native in touch than in sight. Berkeley's argu- 
ment may puzzle those who cannot have the last word with a philoso- 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 271 

pher, but it does not disturb tlie equanimity of those who feel as capa- 
ble of deciding what they see with theii" eyes, whether subjective or 
objective, as they are of deciding what ^Q.y feel with their hands. Of 
course, we may neither feel nor see anything. I shall not here deny 
a consistent scepticism. But I should not be troubled any more with 
the phenomena of vision than with those of touch. I agree that there 
is a quale in touch that becomes associated with another in sight ; that 
a certain fact in vision will have a certain associated meaning in touch. 
But that they should be identical is to admit the presentation of the 
same datum in both senses, even though thei^e are accompanying dif- 
ferences that make it difficult to discover the common qualities. But 
it was the object of Berkeley's doctrine to deny this identity and con- 
seqviently to deny the nativity of space in vision, but also to deny the 
view that a quale could be " perceived " which was not in the " im- 
pression." The consequence of this to the theory of idealism ought to 
be apparent. But this is a matter to be examined again. Attention is 
called to it only to remark the meaning that must be attached to the 
term " perception " when we suppose that the process transcends the 
state of consciousness which it names. 

Now whatever we may think of Kant's doctrine of space and its 
" perception" it is certain that he cleared up a great deal of confusion 
by asserting the ideality of it, though he created as much confusion in 
another direction as he removed in this. His general view that space 
was subjective and ideal as well as a priori was the most radical limita- 
tion of " perception " to what was either " in" the " impression" or 
"in" the mind that had been made. He put forward no paradoxes 
like Berkeley to prove his theor}^ He simply asserted its ideality and 
allowed the logical trend of philosophy to accept it without specific or 
experimental proof and it cut up by the roots all motive for any other 
" perception " of space than such as can be affirmed of any other quality 
of experience. Nothing could be seen which was not presented or 
represented in the sensory " impression " or in the act of consciousness. 
The nature of things was "unknown." 

This consequence, however, was due less to any appeal to facts or 
arguments by Kant that clearly proved the subjectivity and ideality of 
space, as his theory is supposed to conceive it, than to general tenden- 
cies. It was the logical necessity of treating all " perception" in the 
same way that brought about the general manner of regarding the 
subject among idealists. But the student cannot read Kant very far 
without raising the question whether Kant had any clear idea of his 
own doctrine or knew the influences and assumptions that led him to 



2/3 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

it. There is no doubt that he thought he had a perfectly clear idea of 
the case, but when one has tried to penetrate the wilderness of concep- 
tions by which Kant tried to explain what he meant, he must be con- 
fronted with the suspicion that, in spite of certain uniformities of ex- 
pression on the issue, we are dealing with a mind that has no concep- 
tion of clear and consistent thinking. Vaihinger's Kommentar shows 
what a thicket we are in when we undertake to say what Kant thought 
of space, or any other subject on which he spoke, to sav nothmg of the 
differences of opinion among students of the system. It is complicated 
with his ideas of Empfindung, Anschauung, Wahrnehmung, Vorstel- 
lung, Erscheinung, Dinge an sich, A priori., Form, Substance, 
Eigenschaft, Beschaffenheit, Wirklichkeit, Realitiit, Erfahrung, Empi- 
risch, Begriff, Transcendental, and perhaps a dozen other terms and 
conceptions. Any attempt to explain his doctrine must reckon with 
all these and one has not to proceed far before discovering that he has 
a volume on hand to escape the denial that he understands Kant. Then 
he has, in addition to the general confusion of these terms, to consider 
that at almost every step the content of those terms is not what it must 
be in order to make the issue what it is supposed to be. That is, we 
are generally made to believe that Kant is discussing the problems of 
Hume, of scholastic philosophy, of idealism and realism, of material- 
ism versus idealism, etc. But presentl}' we discover that he is using 
many of his terms in wholly new senses which represent only a con- 
venient way of running away from the issue while he makes his an- 
tagonist believe that he is still there fighting. An old proverb ex- 
presses the situation under another analogy. Kant is constantly put- 
ting new wine into old bottles, and as a result thev either burst or we 
find that the wine is not what we contracted for. In such a predica- 
ment the discussion of Kant's doctrine must impose heavy obligations, 
if it is to stand criticism. But if we cannot be certain what Kant's 
doctrine is., we may discuss his more fundamental propositions in a 
way either to show what that doctrine ought to have been in the con- 
ceptions of his day and in the light of the philosophies which influ- 
enced his mind, or to suggest some considerations which may have 
influenced Kant in both his terminology and the asserted ideality of 
space. Possiblv it would be well to do both of these and I shall enter 
at some length into the examination of his views. I shall not pretend 
to give a complete conception of him nor insist that my suggestions are 
superficially deducible from Kant's language alone in its isolated or 
merely traditional import, but I wish in some way to see if we can 
arrive by criticism at ideas that may show a larger possible consist- 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 373 

ency with actual human thinking than is apparent at first. I say, 
" process of criticism" because I mean to test important conceptions 
in his system. I shall start with the most essential proposition in his 
theory. 

I pass by, for the present at least, his reference to the a priori nature 
of space "perception" and his description of it as a "form of intui- 
tion " (Form der Anschauung) , and take his more fundamental concep- 
tion of it as " subjective." This conception of it is added at times to 
that of a " form of intuition," though it is often manifest that Kant in- 
tends that the two phrases shall be identical in their import. But I 
wish for the present to confine attention rather to the nature of space 
as really or apparenth^ conceived by Kant than to enter into discussion 
of what he meant by "intuition" and "form" as a precondition of 
understanding him, however important they may be in the final account 
of his theory. 

Now what does Kant mean by calling space " subjective " ? Many 
of us from time immemorial have meant, when calling a thing subjec- 
tive, that it is not objective, that it is a purely mental product. But 
Kant calls space both ! This is unquestionably his position in the 
yEsthetic, though he seems in the Analytic to think of it only as 
" subjective." But when he calls it both, he certainly does not mean to 
accept the antithesis that these terms have in the minds of the realists 
generally, namely, the distinction between the external and internal, 
or between the real and ideal, as that had ordinarily been conceived, 
though there is real or apparent evidence that he was not wholly con- 
sistent on this point. But for the time he did not mean to discuss the 
problems in which this antithesis originated. 

But then if Kant did not mean what is superficially suggested by 
his language, did he mean by it the Protagorean relativity? This was 
simply that it was not " universal," or that at least we had no evidence 
that it was "universal." But we know that Kant was explicit on this 
point and said definitely that all men had this "percept." It is inter- 
esting, however, to remark two passages in which Kant indicates very 
clearly that his doctrine has to face the suggestion that it implies this rel- 
ativity. He alludes to the fact that v,^e can speak of space only " from 
the standpoint of man," and that we cannot decide whether other think- 
ing beings have it or not. What he meant or supposed by "other 
thinking beings" we are not told. But if "other thinking beings" 
might not have it, how does Kant know that all men have it, after 
calling it " subjective ".^ Have V\-e the influence of Swedenborg here ? 
Taking this term in its sense of being peculiar to the mind and not char- 

18 



274 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

act eristic of external objects in the conception of " common sense" he 
creates a position in which he has no evidence but dogmatism for his 
contention, and it is certain that Kant simply assumes the fact and 
offers no evidence whatever that space " perception " does characterize 
all men. But wliether consistent, or not in this respect it is appar ent 
that Kant intendsjo appl}' the term "subjective" consisten tly wit h,J:he 
conception of " universalit};," in man at least, and so indicates that he 
has not in mind the doctrine of relativity, as was so natural to suppose 
from the description of space as "subjective." But we have still to 
ask what he does mean, if he does not intend relativity by it. 

Now again we have been accustomed to use the term " subjective " 
to imply illusion or hallucination, or when not exactly these, the limita- 
tion of the fact to the subject as an event, whatever further reference or 
implication it may have. We describe illusions and hallucinations as 
" subjective " on the ground that they are mental states only, with no 
objective reality involved and yet corresponding to the natural or normal 
meaning of such experiences in response to the proper stimulus. Thev 
have no correlate which we call reality in the usual representative in- 
terpretation of it, though the person experiencing them actually mis- 
takes the experience for one implving a definite reality. That is to 
say, we assume that an illusion or hallucination is "subjective" and 
mean to indicate that the terms are more or less convertible. Kant 
was evidently aware of this connotation, since he definitely protects 
himself against the implication, and says that, while space is " subjec- 
tive," it is not " Schein" or illusion. This is a purely negative de- 
scription of it and the further question is whether he intends to describe 
it positively as real. In regard to time he explicitly affirms its realitv, 
whatever he may mean by his assertion. Of this, in answer to the 
criticism that his doctrine denies the character of time as understood 
by "common sense," that is, its objective reality, he says that it is to 
be considered " not as an object, but as a mode of conception or pres- 
entation of the subject " (nicht als Object, sondern als Vorstellungsart 
meiner selbst) , and as having "subjective reality in respect of inner 
experience " (subjective Realitiit in Ansehung der inneren Erfahrung) . 
In these statements and the whole passage from which they are taken, 
Kant unmistakably shows that he intends to applv the predicate " re- 
ality " to time^ in some sense, and on the next page of the Critique he 
makes it equally clear that he intends the same conception to be applied 
to space. It is apparent on examination, hoAvever, that he pilfers an- 
other meaning into the case than the one which his antagonist assumes 
and with which the latter creates his objection. Kant gives it" empirical 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 275 

reality," and not "transcendental" in any objective sense. That is, 
he refuses it the objectivity which his critic may mean by "reality" 
and then assumes that the term "reality" men.ns factzcality or exis- 
tence as opposed to non-existence in " perception," in order to affirm it 
of space and time. This is a subreption of another meaning and an 
evasion of the issue v\^hich is a vice very constant with Kant. We should 
perhaps remember, however, that Kant's conception of "real" was 
determined by his relation to the metaphysical and scholastic " realism " 
against which he was directing his philosophy. The conception of that 
term for English thought has been determined by the attempts to answer 
Berkeley and Hume and not to answer the scholastics, or Leibnitz ian- 
ism, or Wolfianism. English " realism " was an epistemological 
theory : continental " realism" was an 07itological theory. The Eng- 
lish "real" was the external: the continental "real" was the meta- 
physical and supersensible. Kant's denial of the "reality" of space 
and time, therefore, was not the denial of their externality as facts of 
nature, but the denial of their metaphysical "reality" as "things in 
themselves" or as properties of " things in themselves." Their " em- 
pirical reality " which he affirms may, therefore, coincide w^ith the 
English conception of the case. It is certain that Kant did not come 
to the problem with the same conception of it that the critics of Berke- 
ley had, but was affected by the a priori metaphysics of the scholastics 
and Leibnitz, and had them to refute. This indicates that he \vas not 
opposing the ordinary realism but the transcendentalism of scholastic 
philosophy. 

It is interesting to remark, however, statements that may be inter- 
preted as contradicting the contention which I have just explained as 
implying the " subjective" ideality of space as against ordinary real- 
ism. They occur in the "transcendental exposition of space." Here 
while he contends that space is a subjective intuition Kant still regards 
it as giving external (aiissere) reality in some sense which he is will- 
ing to consider as an " object." We may find on further examination 
that all this is still subject to the modification that all " phenomena" 
(Erscheinungen) are or have only " empirical reality," but it is clear 
both in this part of the discussion and in that about time, where he 
distinctly calls attention to the difference between space and time " per- 
ception " in relation to the theory of idealism, that he means to assume 
a meaning for space more consonant with the doctrine of realism 
which he is supposed to deny than perhaps other statements would 
seem to indicate. I mean, of course, the ordinary realism. It would 
usually be assumed that the simultaneous affirmation of subjective in- 



2^6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tuition and external reality for space was a contradiction, but there 
must have been some reason for it in Kant. I shall return to this 
point of view later and use the distinction thus implied by Kant for an 
important purpose which I cannot explain fully at present. In the 
meantime, we are forced to recognize the fact that, in spite of this 
appearance of realism in the system, Kant's further statements about 
space in connection with " Erscheinung " and its nature indicate that 
he has to face the accusation of his critic that "phenomena" (Er- 
scheinungen) are illusions (Scheine). First he speaks of space as a 
"Form aller Erscheinungen ausserer Sinne," and also as "Form der 
Anschauung" in which there can be no distinction between " Er- 
scheinung" and " Anschauung." Then again he speaks of the " Vor- 
stellung des Raumes " after we are supposed to have distinguished 
between " Vorstellung" and "Anschauung" on the ground that 
" Vorstellung " may be convertible with " Empfindung " and "An- 
schauung " as not so convertible with it. All this shows confusion 
worse confounded in the system on the ordinarv interpretation of 
language. But assuming that it can be elucidated by some logical 
hocus pocus we can return to the critical issue imposed upon him by 
his own anticipation of the objection that " Erscheinungen" as "well as 
space and time are illusions. 

Now Kant's answer to this objection is the same as that given in 
the reply to the criticism of his idea of time. He denies that "Er- 
scheinungen" imply illusion (Schein) by the same subi'eption as that 
which we have remarked in the case of time, though the mere fact 
that he anticipates this interpretation of ' ' Erscheinung " shows that its 
meaning lies close to that of illusion. Kant's reply simply substitutes 
factuality for objectivity as the meaning of reality, and thinks that 
he has answered his critic's objection. He identifies sensory impres- 
sion with "phenomena" and calls these " Veranderungen unseres 
Subjects," qualifying this statement very carefully by the term " bios," 
which, if it has any significance at all, positively emphasizes what the 
naked expression clearly implies, namely, the exclusion of objectivity 
or external reality from them. Thus he has to speak of "Erschein- 
ungen" as " subjective" also and at the same time he definitely indi- 
cates that the " Empfindujigen,.!i^vs4iiGh'are also treated as " Erschein- 
ungen," that is, as relative in the Frotagorean sense, thpugh^this in 
connection with the denial of the relativity of space which shows a 
conceptual lineage with " Erscheinung^" as its " Form " involves sonie 
confusion. But passing this aside, let us confine ourselves to his atti- 
tude toward sensation and phenomena which he does not wish to regard 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AMD OBJECTIVITY. 277 

as illusions. The very necessity of discussing this question shows that 
Kant was aware of the point of view from which he expected to be 
criticized and hence a realization of the nature of the objection. Hence 
the only matter that remains is the query whether he fairly answered 
the objection. That he simply distorted the meaning of "reality" to 
suit the necessity of an affirmative proposition where he ought to have 
had a negative, proves that he did not face the issue squarely. He 
used it in neither the epistemological nor the ontological sense of 
scholastic metaphysics, but only in the sense in which any yact is 
"real" even when it is merely a subjective state. But whether he 
did or did not use the term fairly, it is apparent t,hat Kant wanted to 
use " subjective" in a sense to exclude both relativity and illusion. 

Let us look at another set of facts in this connection. Philosophy 
had previously admitted the ideality of the secondary qualities of matter, 
and had only questioned that of the primary qualities. Kant's whole 
doctrine denied, explicitly or implicitly, this distinction between the-two 
classes of properties and idealized both. Berkeley had done the same. 
Kant ought to have seen then exactly why his critic objected to the 
"subjectivity" of space and not to have quibbled about the term 
"reality." The meaning of the ideality of the secondary properties 
was clearly enough recognized as indicating their non-externality and 
non-reality as "known," so that the idealization of the primary quali- 
ties ought not to have frightened Kant into apologizing for the conse- 
quences by equivocating with the term " reality." However that may 
be, we must notice an interesting circumstance in the development of his 
position. In the first edition of the Kritik he said, speaking of the 
space "intuition," that "this subjective condition of all external 
phenomena can be compared with no other. The pleasant taste of a 
wine does not belong to the objective properties of the wine, that is of 
an object considered as a phenomenon, but to the peculiar activity of 
the subject which enjoys it." ^ In this and further remarks he shows 
beyond question that he maintains the subjective ideality of sensory 
states. In passing the student should note the peculiar use of the term 
" phenomenon " (Erscheinung) in this quotation. But the important 
thing to be observed is the omission of this passage from later editions 
of the Kritik and tJie_substitption of a passage in which he reaffirms 

^ Diese subjective Bedingung aller ausseren Erscheinungen mit keiner anderen 
kann verglichen warden. Der Wohlgeschmack eines Weines gehort nicht zu 
den objectivien Bestimmungen des Weines, mithin eines Objects sogar als 
Erscheinung betrachtet, sondern zu der besonderen Beschaffenheit des Sinnes 
an dem Subject was ihn geniesst. 




27S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

this__.subjectivity but denies absolutely the ideality^ of "phenomena," 
that is, the secondary qualities of matter. This is a strange inversion 
of the previous conceptions of objectivity and idealism. Previously 
idealism had supposed the ideality of the secondary properties and the 
eality of the primary, "fepace and time. Here in this substituted pas- 
sage, Kant seems to deny the ideality of the secondary qualities and to 
affirm that of space. In the " Allgemeine Anmerkungen," however, 
he asserts the very opposite of this by maintainiiag the " idealitv of 
external as well as internal sense ' perceptions,' and consequently of all 
objects of sense" (Idealitiit des ausseren sowohl als inneren Sinnes, 
mithin aller Objecte der Sinne"). In all this we have apparent a 
perfect mesh of equivocations and contradictions that make it impos- 
sible to determine exactly from Kant's usage what he means by " sub- 
jective " unless we analyze the problem in a wa}- to show that he was 
not respecting the traditional import of the term. This will be found 
in the end, I think, to be the fact. 

In the usual parlance of philosophy we have had a number of antith- 
eses whose meaning has been tolerably clear to most men, each term 
of the antithesis helping to indicate the import of the other. They are 
" external and internal," "subjective and objective," " universal and 
particular," " ideal and real." It has been intended by philosophers, 
most of them at least, that these antitheses should be convertible with 
each other, that is, that the distinction between the " external and 
internal" should mean the same as that betw^een •' objective and sub- 
jective," etc. But this is not always the case. They might partlv or 
even wholly cohicide^ that is, what is said to be "universal" might 
also be found to be " objective," and the " particular " might be found 
where the " subjective" was found, but the coincidence would not be 
evidence of identity ; and so on with the several antitheses throughout. 
If in any case they are supposed to be convertible or identical the fact 
requires proof and should not be assumed. Now Kant often regards 
some of them at least as identical and simply assumes that coincidence 
proves identity. For instance, he makes " universality " convertible 
with "objectivity." He may be right as a matter of fact, but they 
will hardW be the one or the other for the same reasons, while their 
identification more or less violates the historical usage that gave the 
terms a different import. But in spite of this and the accepted antith- 
esis between some of the terms in traditional usage, Kant, as I have 
indicated above, actually regards "subjective" and "objective" as 
coincident in the same fact, namely, that of space, and thus assumes 
that the antithesis does not hold good. If objections to a doctrine are 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 279 

to be met by adopting contradictory statements as describing his posi- 
tion one can refute anything ! No wonder Hegel could talk with 
impunity about the vmity of contradictories. If you simply steal a new 
meaning into the terms of your critic and surreptitiously eliminate the 
conceptions which determine the real problem and the basis of contro- 
versy, you can answer any difficulty. This was Kant's policy through- 
out and one is tempted to insist that he ought to have been hanged. 
He was never prepared to accept the logical consequences of his real 
or apparent position, nor to give a clear square answer to critics. He 
wanted to say that space was " subjective" and yet to deny solipsism. 
He wanted to idealize space as well as the secondary qualities of mat- 
ter, and yet to believe in an external reality not admitted of the second- 
ary qualities mentioned, and then to keep possession of the antithesis 
asserted that the properties of matter had "absolutely no ideality." 
Philosophically he was trying to adopt the language of both idealism 
and realism without resorting to so complete an analysis of the case as 
both his agreement and difference with the two theories required. He 
felt the force of the antithesis between them as historical doctrines, but 
he did not know how to remove it when supposing that there was both 
a truth and an error in the way of stating the actual nature of " knowl- 
edge." How then can we bring out what Kant is supposed to have 
intended? Can we find the desired unity in his conceptions, and if so, 
how can this be affected ? 

In answer to this question, I shall take the two positions assumed 
by Kant and which are so often treated as contradictory, and analyze 
them as they require. Formally and in terms of the historical and tradi- 
tional use of the terms they are contradictory. But can we give an 
analysis of the problem that will elicit conceptions at which Kant may 
have aimed when he did not clearly remove the antithesis mentioned.^ 
This I mean to try and hence the two conceptions with which I start 
are the subjectivity and externality of space. Whether we should 
choose these alternatives as necessarily opposed to each other, I shall 
not decide, for the present at least. I shall simply recognize the fact 
that Kant insisted upon affirming both. His relation to the two and 
different types of realism may be the clue to his confusion, as we shall 
see later, having briefly alluded to it above and indicated that the best 
way to approach him was with the assumption that the difficulties of 
the system arise from the conflict of his language with epistemoloo-ical 
realism and not with the ontological. But that he insisted on the sub- 
jective, a priori^ and ideal nature of the space is not doubted by any 
one, but many insist that he either had no right to admit any affilia- 



2 So THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tion with realism in asserting an external world, or that his meaning 
is not what appears on the surface. That he insisted on an external 
reality in some sense is apparent in several contentions. First, he 
constantly uses the expression that the a priori subjective nature of 
space is necessary for the very purjDose of conditioning the "knowl- 
edge " of an external world of sense. This frequent mode of expression 
Avill be found in the sequel to be of great significance. Secondly, he 
uses the term " outer" (ausser) without any qualification, which would 
suggest that he intended it in the purely objective sense. Thirdly, 
he distinctly asserts in the "Refutation of Idealism" (Widerlegung 
des Idealismus) that the " consciousness of our own existence proves 
the existence of an external world " (Das Bewusstein meines eigenen 
Daseins bevveiset das Dasein der Gegenstande im Raum ausser mir). 
We may say all we please against the real or supposed inconsistency 
of Kant's attack upon idealism. That is indifferent to the question to 
be discussed here. I am dealing first with the system as it is, and 
hence am asking whether there may not be an interpretation which 
may show that Kant was fundamentally, and in spite of appearances to 
the contrary, more consistent than is supposed. He himself evidently 
thought he was consistent and must be examined first on that assump- 
tion. That is, we must try to explain why he took this position and 
why he thought he was justified in denying the idealism (material) 
which he attacked. Hence I repeat the Kantian assumptions with 
which I wish to initiate an examination, namely, the subjective nature 
of space and the existence of an external world Avhich that subjective 
space would seem to contradict. 

Opposition to solipsism alwa-\-s commits a man to some form of 
realism, as we have found in earlier discussions, if for no other reason 
than that the subject's own states are not the onlv facts accepted in 
" knowledge." The idealist admits other conscious subjects besides 
himself, which he could not admit if his "knowledge" were strictly 
limited to his own states. Idealism, therefore, has to make its peace 
with solipsism and the proposition that there are other conscious sub- 
jects is its treaty. There are two types of realism, the naive of " com- 
mon sense" and the hypothetical of philosophy. Idealism may con- 
trovert the former but be identical with the latter. Naive realism 
assumes that the state of "knowledge" represents the nature of the 
object as it is seen, and so supposes more or less resemblance between 
" knowledge " and reality. Hypothetical realism assumes more or less 
of a difference or antithesis between the mental act and the object be- 
lieved to exist. Hence the onlv realism which the idealist can oppose 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 2S1 

is that which interprets external reality by the principle of identity, 
not between the act of "knowing" and the thing "known," but be- 
tween the presentation and the object; that is, the realism which takes 
the qualities of reality to be exactly as they appear. Whatever distinct 
names we give to the two types of realism, it was the latter type that 
Kant's position would dispute, though I rather think that he did not 
have this alone in mind, but mainly the metaphysical realism of the 
scholastics, as perhaps most persons will recognize, and I state the 
fact here only to make clear the point de rspej-e from which to view 
his doctrine. This is made apparent by Kant's accusation against the 
common mind (empirischer Verstand) that it takes sensory data for 
" things in themselves " (Dinge an sich) . Assuming, then, that Kant 
^vas denying \vhat I shall call presentative realism, as well as the 
scholastic type, and intejiding to admit a form implied by the denial of 
solipsism, which all idealists of the Kantian tvpe deny, I have a posi- 
tion which indicates one characteristic of consistency in the assertion 
of subjectivity for space and the existence of external reality. But 
Kant, at least, apparently intends to go farther. He does not wish to 
agree with the ordinary realistic conception of space as taken from 
Cartesianism and assumed to be primary and real in the presentative 
sense while it was considered as the essential property of matter. 
Hence he introduced a complication into the problem which philosophy 
previously ^vas not prepared to discuss with its accepted terminology. 
If he had said that he intended to conceive space in the same way that 
we relate color to external objects, and thus suppose that there was 
the same kind of antithesis or difference between space as an intuition 
(Anschauung) and that which is supposed to condition the very exist- 
ence of reality, as that between color as a physical attribute and color 
as a psychical function, he would have had a clear position, whether 
true or not. He would have stated his intention definitely. But it is 
apparent that he has not done so, and perhaps many or most persons 
^vould contend that it would have been absurd to do it. Certainly he 
uses language v^diose easiest interpretation seems to imply the total 
subjectivity of space in the solipsistic sense viinus its relativity. He 
speaks indifferently of the subjectivity of space and of its " intuition," 
and even indicates that they are identical. This would seem to indi- 
cate with absolute clearness the denial of any and all objectivity to 
what is called space, or the supposed space of the realist. But here 
is a very significant form of expression by Kant, and frequently given 
by him in places where he evidently intends it to be fundamental to his 
•doctrine, that this "subjective intuition" conditioned the very exist- 



383 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

enceof external '• perception," or the '•'• perception " of exterjnal reality, 
a statement which he could not liave made if he had intended to deny 
all objective import to the idea of space, since he thus definitely relates 
it to a reality inconsistent with solipsism. We have in this, perhaps, 
an explanation of Kant's concejDtion of the simultaneously " subjec- 
tive" and " objective " nature of space without interpreting " objec- 
tive " as synonymous with "universality." That is, suppose that 
Kant meant to assert the purely subjective ^e?z^i'/j- of space "percep- 
tion " as a function qualitatively determined, with an objective impli- 
cation or even '■'' perceptive" datum ^ whether the realism be presenta- 
tive or non-presentative, and thus distinguish it from the objective 
genesis and implications of sensation^ whether presentative or not, 
though Kant would say that sensation was non-presentative of objec- 
tive reality in spite of its objective origin. If this is Kant's conception, 
we must remember, however, that epistemologically he did not intend 
to assume or deny any identity, that is presentative character, between 
space as intuited and space as a supposed objective reality and as con- 
ceived by the realists whom he actually agreed with, but only as con- 
ceived by the realists whom he was refuting. Now is there any rea- 
son to suppose that any such interpretation is possible or rational ? 

If the view indicated be possible we must remember the following 
facts : (i) the objective orjgin of sensation; (3) the objective 
m§a nin^ of sensation; (3) the subjective nature of sensation; (4) 
the non-presentative nature of external reality. This indicates 
Kant's conception of the external world of matter and the way in 
which we "know" it. The conception of space which I conjecture 
for examination, possibly Kantian, may be represented in a parallel 
form with that of sensation, (i) The subjective origi7i of space 
"perception"; (2) ^^xo. objective meaning of space " peixeption " ; 
(3) the indeterminate question whether it is presentative or non- 
presentative of its objective reference. 

Kantians will admit the first of these conceptions, but deny the 
second in any other sense than an application to phenomena. That is, 
they will say that Kant did not admit any other objectivity for space 
than a reference to " phenomena" and its universality inhuman " per- 
ception," not its externality. He specifically describes it (i) positively 
as the "form of phenomena" (Form der Erscheinungen), and (3) 
negatively, as not a property of "things in themselves" (Dinge an 
sich). This would seem to mean that its " objectivity " could not 
mean externality, unless "phenomena" (Erscheinungen) could be 
treated as external. That is, we are shifted back to the meaning of 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 2S3 

"phenomenon" for a solution of the problem, including also that of 
"things in themselves." But I shall not pursue that direction in the 
discussion at present. After thus hinting the sovuxe of the objection 
to the possibility outlined and the discussion which this objection sug- 
gests, I shall start with a question or two which I have not seen dis- 
cussed in the attempts to solve the problem. It arises in connection 
with the statement that space is not a " Begriff " because it is infinite, 
and that it is not a property of " things in themselves." The analysis 
of both with their implications will bring out the conceptions which 
may have influenced Kant in his doctrine, whether they explain it or 
not. 

Now what is the implication in Kant's proof that space is an 
"intuition" (Anschauung) and not a "concept" (Begriff)? He 
assumes in his argument that " Begriff e," abstract general concepts, 
are the result of comparison and abstraction, and that the objects in 
experience from which they are formed are individual objects of a finite 
character. That is, the individual objects of " perception" (Wahrneh- 
mung) are derived from the finite presentations of sense. Now if the 
objects of sense are finite and if space is infinite, it cannot be abstracted 
from these objects, but must be the product or object of functions not 
constituted by those in either sensation (Empfindung) or "empirical 
intuition" (empirische Anschauung). The function has to be a dis- 
tinct one, and so was named "pure intuition" (reine Anschauung), 
whatever that may mean. But it is certainly supposed to give what 
sensation cannot give. All that abstraction can effect is the deter 
mination of common qualities which inhere in the subjects from which' 
they are drawn, and it never shows that the quality abstracted exists 
outside the subjects compared. Space being infinite, therefore, cannot 
be the object of an act of abstraction. The act intuiting it must be of 
the mind's own doing. In this way we can understand why Kant 
wishes to maintain persistently that space "perception" is purely sub- 
jective. It is not "given" in sensation and not derived from its 
objects by abstraction, and consequently must be an " a priori^' product 
of the mind, if " product " is the right word, and so a purely subjective 
"creation" superposed upon experience, or in which_il,ls__arranged. 
If "creation" or "product" wrongly describe the real process, as I 
think they do, we may look at the act as a subjectively originated one 
in respect of its content, but nevertheless "perceptive" or repre- 
sentative of an external reality witho ut assuming th at--lt. -is ^ r'^'i'=^ ally 
in^,gated_jDy space a s aii objec t. The only question that remains is 
whether this view of the case has adequate grounds for its assertion. 



2S4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

This query must be answered in some such way as the following. 
The description of space as infinite apparently implies that it is 
objective in the realistic sense or that the subject itself is infinite. If 
space have no external reality whatsoever, or is neither a property nor 
a relation of "things in themselves," but a subjective "intuition," as 
Kant asserts over and over again, and if it is infinite at the same time, 
this quality must be attributed to the subjective act of the mind. That 
is, all the infinity which v^^e have been accustomed to ascribe to the 
external space of realism must be referred to the mind of the man who 
has it. Now if a Kantian is not satisfied with this reduction of the 
matter, he must admit that space is objective, as njiL-Containedw holly 
in the._s.uhjeGtive act which intuitS-it.-&\£LiJ:ho ugh the act is subj ectively 
originated and not the. .result of^_spatial_stiniulus. Consequently, it 
would seem that whatever subjectivity we mean to give it, this must 
be consistent with some form of objectivity implied in realism. Can 
such a conception be made consonant with Kant's statements elsewhere ? 

The answer to this question will require an elaborate statement of 
the ideas by which Kant was influenced both consciouslv and uncon- 
sciously in the formation of his conceptions on every subject in his 
system. This statement of the ideas affecting his judgment is suggested 
by the constantly repeated observation of Kant that space is neither a 
property jzor a relation of " tJiings in themselves.'''' It is apparent 
in it that Kant had in mind ideas derived from Descartes and Leibnitz, 
and that he was denying something which he thought had been affirmed. 

Now let me first remark that the significance of Kant's statement will 
VV^- depend, somewhat at least, upon whether the emphasis in the proposi- 
tion, denying that space is a property of "things in themselves," is placed 
vipon the negative particle affecting the copula, or upon the predicate 
word "property." That is, we may have two judgments in this form 
of statement. ( i ) " Space is not a property of ' things in themselves,' " 
and (3) " Space is not a property of ' things in themselves.'" In the 
first of these propositions we deny all connection between space and 
things. In the second we admit this connection but deny that space is 
a " property" of things or as inhering- in them. That is, we mav con- 
sciously or unconsciously interpret the concept "property" as imply- 
ing inhesion and so determining the same li?nitatio7is as the S7^bject. 
That is, properties of a subject do not extend their existence or inhesion 
beyond the limits of the subject itself. Now Kant over and over again 
asserts that space does not i7ihere in things themselves. This, it will 
be noticed, is quite consistent with his statement that space is infinite 
and his adhesion to something like the atomic theory of matter. The 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 2S5 

first interpretation of the proposition, or perliaps better, the interpre- 
tation of the first form of the proposition leads to the Boscovitchian 
doctrine of points of force as constituting the nature of matter. This 
means that matter per se is spaceless. This view is supposed to fol- 
low from the Leibnitzian theory of monads. Now it is noticeable that 
Kant does not say that "things in themselves" are spaceless, but he 
does say that space is not a " property" of them and leads us to con- 
clude that it was the second form of the proposition that he had in 
mind. This we shall find consistent with the idea that matter or 
reality "occupies" space, while Kant means to deny that the fact 
makes it a "property" of reality. Now let us examine the possible 
lineage of this conception. 

As we know, Descartes held the following views : (i) that space 
was the essential property of matter; (2) that matter was infinite 
and filled all space; (3) that space was a primary quality of mat- 
ter and real as " perceived." Both his sensible and supersensible 
worlds were essentially alike in their nature. But he seems to have 
regarded space at the same time as not dependent on matter for its 
existence, though considered as its " property." At an}- rate, the con- 
tention that matter was infinite made it impossible to prove that space 
was not a " property" of it in the same sense as all its other inhering 
properties. vSpinoza simplified things by making space an attribute 
of matter precisely like all other properties as Descartes conceived 
them. Extension and thought, as we know, were the two essential attri- 
butes of substance or God, and all others were modes, but all of them 
inhered in the Absolute. This position made substance, matter or God, 
at least the logical prius of these attributes, and so conditioized their 
existence on the Absolute instead of regarding space as in any way con- 
ditioning the existence of matter, substance or the Absolute. Spinoza 
insisted absolutely on monism. He could not tolerate two simultaneous 
absolutes, even if one of them was space and the other substance. 
Hence we must subordinate the existence of space to this substance 
and reverse the ordinary assumptions about it which made it necessary 
to the existence of substance, though not its creator. His position 
was the logical consequence of the Cartesian doctrine in its essential 
character, and perhaps led to the idea, held also by previous scholastic 
philosophers, that the Absolute was above space and time, and per- 
haps could be described as spaceless, though there was nothing in this 
conception to prevent the philosopher from holding that reality, the 
absolute, had extension as a property of it and conditioned its existence 
as it did all properties, a view the reverse of that which commonly 



286 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

conditioned substance by space, though not thinking of it as a causal 
condition. 

Now Leibnitz could not submit to the monistic materialism of 
Spinoza nor to the atomistic materialism of the physicists, and hence 
he proceeds to the construction of his monadistic doctrine which is a 
singular cross between Spinozism and Atomism. His primary notion 
was that of substance, but he could not endure the monistic pantheism 
of the one school or the pluralistic materialism of the other, and hence 
he sought to evade both extremes by his peculiar monadism, the details 
of which it is not necessary to examine here. What interests us is his 
theory of space. Leibnitz anticipated Kant in the statement that space 
was not a " property" of matter, but he^called ij_g^ ^^ relati on " of_ it. 
It appears, however, that Leibnitz distinguished between " extension" 
and " space." He regarded " extension " as a property of matter, the 
amount of "space" which it occupied and Avhich was alwavs the 
same and represented its limits. In this conception which is the same 
as that in modern physical dynamics, substance is the prius of " ex- 
tension," precisely as it was in the philosophy of Spinoza. On the 
question of " space" Leibnitz was not perfectly clear, though he was 
most uniform in his statement that it was a " relation." At times he 
seems to have regarded it as subjective in the Kantian sense, as he 
certainly so conceived time. At others he thinks of it as "real" 
though he is careful to deny that it is either substance or accident. 
This is a most imjoortant consideration in determining what he meant 
by calling it a "relation" and also in estimating the intellectual in- 
fluences affecting the conceptions of Kant, since it shows what both 
men had to controvert in the effort to affirm something of space. 
What Leibnitz was clear on was the statement that " space " was not 
a " property" of the monads and that It was neither a substance nor 
an accident of anything else than matter. AVhen he came to say what 
it was he could only call it a " relation." Now, though It Is possible 
that he meant by his view to assert in a new form, less equivocal as he 
may have supposed than the Idea of " condition," the old doctrine that 
space was a condition of the existence of matter and to limit the idea 
of "property "to inhesion and the limitations of matter as regards 
space, nevertheless the tendency of his mode of expression, as perhaps 
also various other features of his theory, was the reverse, since a 
" relation" Is usually and most naturally conceived as dependent on the 
two or more terms of reality for its existence. That Is, the things 
related are the prius of the " relation," and this can in no way " con- 
dition " their existence, even though It represents something which 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 2S7 

encompasses them. But it was a mistake to call it a " relation" if he 
meant to regard it as in any way conditioning the existence of reality, 
and it is evident that Kant saw the matter in this light when he so 
emphatically denied that space was what Leibnitz affirmed it to be. 
But as Leibnitz denied that it was a "property" of matter and afhrmed 
that it was only a "relation" his view resulted in the doctrine of 
Boscovitch, or rather was this, as indicated above, namely, that matter 
in its real nature was constituted by points of force, and so was space- 
less in every sense of the term. This was the situation when Kant 
came. But before taking his theory up for consideration, another 
problem must be noticed in conjunction with the Leibnitz ian doctrine 
of space. It is another fundamental conception in his system, namely, 
the spontaneity of the monads. 

The primary object of Leibnitz was to refute materialism. This 
theory, as we know, explained all " phenomena" on mechanical prin- 
ciples. These represent the transmission of force through matter as a 
passive medium. In this interpretation of mental phenomena we 
should have the intromission into the brain of impressions from 
without. The mind would be purely receptive of everything from the 
external world after the manner of the transmission of motion, and on 
the assvmiption that effects were like their causes, the external world 
would be properly represented in the internal, and " perception " might 
well be regarded as giving things as they are and not as they appear, 
unless with such qualifications as attend all transmission of energy. 
In brief, materialism makes the mind a passive recipient of sensations 
and " knowledge" from without. "Phenomena" are a physicus in- 
Jluxus from the external world. In other words, matei'ial causation 
and the principle of identity are the explanation of mental " phe- 
nomena." Now Leibnitz thought to refute this position by his theory 
of spontaneity in the monads and of preestablished harmony. This 
spontaneity of the subject shut out the p/iysicjis injitixus involved in 
the materialistic hypothesis and made the subject an active as opposed 
to a passive reality. But Leibnitz did not mean to shut out a real 
"knowledge" of the external reality which he said could not transmit 
its processes into the mind. It appears to some thinkers that he did 
not provide any way to insure this external "knowledge." But his 
doctrine of " occasional causes," which was virtually identical with 
the idea of efficient causes, and the assumption that all the monads 
were qualitatively alike, differing only in degree of kind, provided an 
instigating influence for inciting mental states, while the identity in 
kind of the monads insured an identity of their action, so that a foreign 



288 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

origin for "knowledge" was obtained and a principle of identity in- 
sured for adjudging the nature of things. Whether he was correct or 
not is not the problem here, but only the fact that he provided for the 
" knowledge " of external reality consistently with his doctrine of 
spontaneity. Hence though objective reality could not transmit itself 
into the mind, it could be " known" as more than a sensation or as 
something subjective and ideal. In other words, whatever defects the 
Leibnitzian idealism had, it attempted to establish a subjectivity which 
was consistent wath objectivity, if it did not actually imply it. Is not 
this an intimation of the reason why Kant links "subjective" and 
" objective" together in connection with space.'' 

The logical influences leading Kant into the denial of both the 
Leibnitzian and other conceptions of space and the affirmation of its 
ideality are as clear as they are inevitable. He had at one time ac- 
cepted the philosophy of Leibnitz with its tendencies toward the Bos- 
covitchian points of force as an explanation of all reality, whether 
material or spiritual. But Kant saw that, if " knowledge" had to be 
instigated by the causal action of the external world, itself spaceless 
in so far as space was supposed to be a " property " of it, this relation 
or fact could not be " known " in the same way that matter was 
" known," because it w'as no part of the causal agent and was not 
itself an active reality. As a consequence, therefore, the association 
of space with matter in experience had to be the result of functions not 
connected organically wath matter, not transmitted to the mind by it in 
sensation, and not caused by the external " relation," an'ifi\ inactive 
thing or fact between the monads, but the product or "percept" of 
the mind's own action. There was no alternative for Kant to the con- 
clusion that spaceless things could not produce space " perception" in 
the same way that sensation was produced and that an inactive thing 
could not produce it. 

Now Kant did not accept the totality of the Leibnitzian doctrine. 
He returned to the materialistic conception, or assumed the material- 
istic point of view in his doctrine of the "receptivity of sense" (Re- 
ceptivitjit der Sinnlichkeit) in which external objects (aussere Ersch- 
einungen odor Gegenstiinde) were given (Gegeben), and retained 
spontaneity explicitly only for the understanding (Verstand) and rea- 
son (Vernunft) . In this way he obtained an external world of " sense " 
without the spatial accompaniment and made this latter subjective. To 
the man who looks at the doctrine that matter consists of spaceless 
points of force as absurd, there would be no difliculty in accepting the 
objectivity of space as necessary to the " knowledge " of matter, inde- 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 289 

pendently of the question how it was effected. But to the man who 
accepted the doctrine of Leibnitz and modified it to the extent of ad- 
mitting receptive functions for the " knowledge " of an external reality 
that was per se spaceless, there was no alternative to the conception 
that space was a subjective product or " percept " added to sensation 
and giving "matter" a "phenomenal" character or appearance. 
Space not being a "property" of matter nor an active thing, could 
neither affect the sensorium nor be " known" as such a " property." 
The subjective act would either envelop the " empirical reality" pre- 
cisely as the Leibnitzian "relation" enveloped the monads without 
being a " property " of them, or " perceive " space without supposing 
that space had itself produced any effect on the subject, but was sim- 
ply incited in the mind without any transmission of causal influence 
from without. In declaring it objective Kant showed that he took the 
latter alternative. 

This return to the realistic conception of sensation, as opposed to 
the Leibnitzian idealism, thus making it receptive as did materialism, 
carried with it the existence of external reality, that is, the objective 
ge7iesis of sensation, even if it be afterward regarded as subjective in 
7iahire. This is to say that, though it has an objective origin, the 
genesis is not to be interpreted as necessarily carrying with it a pres- 
entative conception of the reality "known," as one form of realism 
and of materialism maintained, but may consist with the idea of efficient 
causes producing effects which do not represent their nature. This 
view of objective genesis but subjective nature supposes that reality is 
not " known " by the principle of identity but is objective nevertheless, 
as implied in the idea of efiicient or "occasional" cause. Now when 
this conception of the possible relation between "knowledge" and 
reality is once assumed, namelv, that externality may be affirmable or 
"known" without being materially presented in "perception," we 
may ask whether Kant's view of space may not be somewhat similar, 
minusjthe conception of external influence in producing it. He refuses 
it an objective origin and thus seems to make it subjective in a more 
radical sense than sensation. But the contention here is that he may 
have intended it to have a subjective origin with an objective import. 
How can this possibility be made clear or plausible? We might answer 
this question with the assumption of the mind's spontaneity in its space 
"perception" (Raumanschauung), but Kant does not explicitly per- 
mit us to make this assumption, except as implied in a few statements. 
He only distinctly and explicitly applies spontaneity to the systematizing 
function of the understanding (Verstand) and to the idealizing or 
"I9 



290 THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPIIV. 

speculative function of reason (Vernunft). Of course, taking space 
its neither "real" (substance or attribute of anything) nor a "rela- 
tion" betw^een things conditioned by these, and conceiving it as con- 
ditioning matter of which it was not a '-property" passive or active, 
he could not suppose that the " perception" of it was effected as that 
of matter was produced, and so had to make it 7iil and an illusion, or 
an a priori " intuition," whether he chose to regard it as in any way 
presentative or not.^ 

But though Kant does not so explicitly indicate the interpretation 
suggested, let us see whether it is not forced on us from the verv nature 
of his assumption in regard to the nature and limits of sensation, or 
the objective phenomena of sense. We must remember that he has 
said that space is infinite and not a "property" of things in them- 
selves. The ' ' properties " of matter inhere in it and do not extend as 
attributes beyond its limitations, Kant having at least implicitly aban- 
doned the Cartesian view of matter as filling all space and returned 
more or less to the atomistic or monadistic conception of it as some- 
thing limited. Now this matter, or objective world, made itself 
" known," or produced sensations, by acting on the subject. That is, 
matter acted on us by virtue of its properties which in fact represented 

^Two references suggesting that Kant had this supposed spontaneity of 
sense in mind may be quoted. In the first " Allgemeine Anmerkungen," speak- 
ing of the phenomenon of the rainbow, he concludes : " So ist die Frage von der 
Beziehung der "N^orstellung auf den Gegenstand transcendental und nicht allein 
diese Tropfen sind blose Erscheinungen, sondern selbst ihre runde Gestalt, ja 
so gar der Raum, in welchem sie fallen, sind Nichts an sich selbst, sondern 
blose Modificationen oder Grundlagen tmserer sinlichen Anschauung." The 
fact to be specially remarked is that " Raum," like sensations, in one respect at 
least, is a " modification " of the mind. If Kant does not mean to suppose a 
difference between sensation and space in this passage he has no right to his 
" reine Anschauung " and hence contradicts his main doctrine. But it can be 
admitted that he does not intend any such contradiction while we call attention 
to the evident desire to regard space " perception " as some kind of active 
function. 

The next passage is in the second " Allgemeine Anmerkungen." Speaking 
directly of space and time and their precondition of all " experience," he says : 
"Nun ist das, was, als \"orstellung, vor aller Handlung irgend etwas zu denken, 
vorhergehen kann, die Anschauung, w^elche, da sie Nichts vorstellt, ausser so- 
fern Etwas im Gemiithe gesetzt wird, Nichts anderes sein kann, als die Art, wie 
das Gemiith durch eigene Thatigkeit, namlich, dieses Setzen iher Vorstellung, 
mithin durch sich selbst afficirt wird, d. i. ein innerer Sinn seiner Form nach." 
The expressions "eigene Thatigkeit" and "durch sich selbst afficirt" are ex- 
plicit recognitions of spontaneity in sense, and possibly many other statements 
might be found implying the same. Tiie position is certainly implied in his 
general doctrine. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 291 

that action on us, and which in physical parlance would be called 
forces (Krjifte). As space is explicitly affirmed by Kant not to be a 
'''•property'''' of matter in itself (Dinge an sich), a fact implied by its 
infinity, if "property" is made convertible with finite inhesion, we 
can readily see that space cannot, on Kant's assumption, act on sense. 
On-ly "properties" of objects are "known" in that way, namely 
through the "receptivity of sense." Hence there is no alternative to 
the assumption that space has a purely subjective oj;igiii as a " percep- 
tion," and the only question that remains is whether it has an objective 
import other than as a fact of consciousness which we can contemplate 
as any other mental state. 

Now as space is not a " property" of things, as an " intuition" it 
must be a function or " property" of something, and its ideality with- 
out objectivity would make it a function or " property" of the subject. 
But, as seen, its infinity must imply either that this subject is infinite 
or that space has an objectivity of some kind, one or the other. Kant 
has not affirmed the former, and cannot do this without supposing a 
"thing in itself" with a "property" which he has expressly denied 
of it. Hence we are left with " Hobson's choice" of objectivity of 
some type. Kant cannot attribute this infinity to matter as " phe- 
nomenon," since he must limit this to the finitude of experience or 
sensation, and having denied it of "things In themselves," he must 
Suppose that this objectivity is of a fact which is not a " property " of 
matter, nor a relation depending on matter as a prius, nor an active 
agent on sense (Sinnlichkeit). But for the fear that he would have 
to suppose it a substance or an attribute of something else than matter, 
Kant might have asserted the objectivity more clearly, though his view 
of sensation would require him still to make the " perception" of it 
an a priori subjective act. But the interpretation thus indicated puts 
the conception where It is in science generally, in w^hich it is con- 
ceived as a condition of the existence of material reality, the only dif- 
ference being that, with Kant, it is Incapable of causing any impres- 
sions on sense, that Is, any "intuition" (Anschauung) externally ini- \5i'^^''*" 
tiated. The denial that it is a "property" of things prevents it froiTV'l'''''^ .'"' 6'^' 
being thus externally initiated, according to Kant's limitation of sen- ^^; y"^^ bs ' 
sory Impressions, and thus determines Its subjective origin. Its in- ~"' «^ 

finlty prevents it from being purely subjective in nature and from being,,- t ^ ^\ • ,;^, VF 
a property of "phenomena" which are limited to the finite, andl .,;,'t\,t^'* 
hence In some sense It must have objectivity, whether presentative or i x 1,, ^\ 



non-presentatlve. We have seen as a fact that Kant speaks of it as 

both subjective and objective without feeling that he is describing it in ^^^ 



293 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

contradictory terms, and that the Leibnitzian philosophy apparently 
makes this possible. This is intelligible, however, only on the sup- 
position that he is not assuming the usual antithesis between the two 
terms, but is thinking of subjective action and objective import. 

The position just taken is more or less confirmed by interesting 
remarks by Kant on a point not often, if ever, mentioned by students 
and which apparently deny the conclusions above conjectured. The 
first of these passages occurs in the " Elauterung " on Time, and 
the second in the " Allgemeine Anmerkungen." Kant complains 
that the assumption of the "absolute reality" of space and time, 
whether " subsistent or inherent," supposes two eternal and infinite 
" Undinge (Raum und Zeit)," which exist without being real (wirk- 
lich) and only for the sake of incompassing all reality (alles Wirk- 
liche). 

I shall not quote the whole of the second instance in which the 
same thought is repeated with emphasis, but simply refer the reader 
to the whole of the ^/lird "Allgemeine Anmerkung." In this pas- 
sage Kant is repudiating the accusation that his doctrine results in 
inaking space and time illusions (Scheine), and asserts that : "If we 
take space and time as properties that ought to exist in things them- 
selves, in order to make them possible, and then survey the absurdi- 
ties in which we should be involved in having to admit that two in- 
finite things, which are not substances, nor something inherent in 
substances, but nevertheless must be something existing, na}-, the 
necessary condition of the existence of all things, would remain, even 
if all existing things were removed, we really cannot blame the good 
Bishop Berkeley for degrading bodies to mere illusion."^ Then Kant 
adds that our own existence w^ould fall w^ith such suppositions. 

I repeat that the first appearance of these passages is that they are 
directly opposed to the contention that I have put forward as a possi- 
ble Interpretation of Kant, and they apparently deny in the clearest 
terms the "reality" of space and time. But before admitting the 

1 " Wenn man den Raum und die Zeit als Beschaffenheiten ansieht, die ihrer 
Moglichkeit nach in Sachen an sich angetroffen werden miissten, und iiberdenkt 
die iingereimtheiten, in die man sich alsdenn verwickelt, indem zwei unendliche 
Dinge, die nicht Substanzen, auch nicht etwas wirklich den Substanzen Inharir 
endes, dennoch aber Existirendes, ja die nothwendige Bedingung der Existence 
aller Dinge sein mlissen, auch ubrig bleiben, wenn gleich alle Dinge aufgeho- 
ben werden, so kann man es dem guten Berkeley wohl nicht verdenken, Avenn 
er die Korper zu blosem Schein herabsetze." 

It should be noticed that in this passage the word " Dinge " is used where 
in the first instance "Undinge" is used. This throAvs light upon Kant's con- 
ception of the problem. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. "293 

force of this, which I grant is at least apparent, let me call attention 
to an interesting circumstance. It is the fact that the realist always 
thinks that it is Kant's ideality; of space that gives rise to all the ab- 
surdities (Ungereimtheiten) in the problem. No one ever seems to 
have dreamed of the absurdities that Kant apparently indicates are 
self-evident on the realistic theory. They have all seemed on the other 
side. Why then has Kant so confidently affirmed them when they have 
not been apparent at all to others? 

I think that this question can easily be answered. Kant has wholly 
misapprehended the contention of epistemological realism. He was 
dealing with metaphysical or ontological realism. Whatever philoso- 
phers may have supposed that space was a " substance" or the attri- 
bute of some substance other than matter, they are certainly not those 
who gave the meaning to epistemological realism. Clarke held that 
space was the attribute of some substance, and Leibnitz evidently knew 
writers who did the same. But epistemological realism, as the result 
of nominalism and of the reaction against Berkeley, not only used the 
term "real" as denoting anything external to the mind, whether sub- 
stantive or not, but conceived the problem of " knowledge " to concern 
the way of "knowing" anything beyond consciousness, and was no^ 
primg^^ily interested in the nature of the thing " known." Hence Kant 
was using~Tanguage which was intended to deny ontological realism 
when, to later English thought it appeared to deny epistemological 
realism. I agree that if space and time are to be considered either as 
"substances" or as " attributes" we fall into all sorts of absurdities 
but I maintain that, whatever the aberrations in the occasional use of 
language may be in forgotten thinkers, it has not been characteristic of 
historical and epistemological realism to assume that space and time 
were "substances" and possibly only Spinoza, Clarke, and a few 
others had the audacity to declare them attributes. What epistemo- 
logical realism has stood for is the fact that space is not an illusion of_ 
the ^enses, nor a subjective creation of the mind. It has supposed 
that space exists in some way external to the mind and body. Kant 
had simply confused the two different types of realism. This is evident 
in the fact that he thought he was dealing with the same issue in the denial 
that space was " real " and at the same time in the denial that it was an 
illusion. Moreover Kant should have remarked also that realism has 
not identified itself in all cases with the doctrine that all " knowledge " 
is presentative^ that is, an application of the principle of identity in 
some form to the relation between sensation and the qualities of what 
it supposes is external. Realism has committed itself in general only 



294 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

to the fact of external existence in order to escape solipsism, and divided 
into two schools, the one making "knowledge" of externality direct 
and presentative and the other indirect and non-presentative. Where 
space and time have been concerned, this latter school, which Hamil- 
ton calls the " hypothetical realists," has perhaps been no more explicit 
than Kant on the question whether they are presentative or non-presen- 
tative of external nature. But they would all agree with Kant in 
accepting the absurdity of the views which were so ridiculous to him. 
They simply spoke of them as conditions of the existence of outer 
reality, precisely in the same sense in which Kant makes them the 
" conditions of external phenomena" (Bedingungen der ausseren Er- 
scheinungen) . 

As a second point to be made, a critical examination of the passage 
quoted will show that all the absurdities grow out of Kant's statement 
of the case for which epistemological realism of any sort is not respon- 
sible. Kant supposes that the absurdities grow out of the assumptions 
that space and time are active properties (Beschaffenheiten) of " things 
in themselves" and are yet neither " substances" nor " attributes " in- 
hering in substances, but the necessary condition of the existence of 
all things. I agree as to the absurdity of supposing them properties 
of that which they condition, but it is not the conception of epistemo- 
logical realism. Kant is confusing the doctrines of Spinoza and Car- 
tesian realists and assuming them to be the same, Avhile he is apparently 
ignorant of the philosophic movement which was a rejDly to Berkeley 
and Hume. I doubt whether Kant could have named a single realist 
who ever stated or conceived space and time to be either active proper- 
ties or limited static properties of reality. It is possible that the phi- 
losopher can be asked to consider such a question in the problem of 
"knowledge" as based upon the causal influence of objects of it. But 
as no philosophers except the Leibnitz ian type have regarded matter 
as spaceless the question did not naturally arise, and Kant's problem 
could hardly suggest itself until that point of view was advanced. 
Until Leibnitz put forward his monadistic system with its dependence 
upon spontaneity for " knowledge" of all reality, and also for consti- 
tuting the very nature of realitv itself, the question of space and time, 
and of all facts of " perception " resolved itself into two problems : (i) 
the origin of " knowledge," and (2) the 7neaning of it. Or are things 
mediately or immediatelv "known"? It was not whether they were 
" perceived " or " known " by a causal influence on the subject, but 
whether they could be "perceived" or "known" in any way what- 
ever. Epistemological realism supposed a causal agency in the pro- 



PERCEPTION OF SPAOE AND OBJECTIVITY. 295 

duction of sensation and not necessarily of '•'•perception" materially 
considered. Hence it was not bound either to suppose a causal in- 
fluence of space on the subject as a condition of being " perceived " or 
to limit "perception" to the subjective state. But Kant assumed that 
no " knowledge" was possible except through a causal action on the 
subject, unless it was a priori.^ and then between the subjective nature 
0.f such an act and the absence of objective causes for its object had a 
confusing situation for both idealism and realism. But he should not 
have confused epistemological and ontological realism in such a way 
as to suppose that the usual doctrine of space involved the simultaneous 
assertion of its being a " property " and a " condition " of things. Its 
conception of it as a " property," when this was supposed in any sensej 
at all, was merely that of a predicate affirmable of it and not as a funcV 
tion of its activity, thovigh the dynamic theory of matter may even do 
this. There was no contradiction between this view of it and the 
assumption that space is the condition of material, or even of any 
other, reality. We have only to take the form of statement which 
Kant adopts for phenomena to show the truth of this position, since 
what is supposed to '• condition phenomena" ought not to suggest an 
absurdity when applied to noumena, as the term "condition" is not 
supposed to imply causality of an efficient or creative sort in either 
case. That is, in both the realistic and Kantian theories, the relation 
expressed by "condition" is static, not dynamic, whether applied to 
noumena or phenomena. But Kant is trying to accuse realism of 
assuming that space and time are dynamic properties of things as a 
condition of being " perceived " and that they are at the same time the 
static prius of the existence of these things. This, of course, is absurd 
enough, but that it is the doctrine of the ordinary epistemological 
realism is an illusion of Kant's, or of the Kantian philosophers. 

There was an apology for Kant's way of putting the case in his 
time, as there were metaphysical theories of space and time which 
epistemological realism since then has not been requii^ed to consider. 
Consequently I am here providing against the interpretation of the 
Kantian philosophy as solving the problem which epistemology has 
now to discuss, though I am also endeavoring to show that the very 
confusion of Kant grew out of the transition to this point of view 
and admitted into it conceptions which may have to dominate mod- 
ern doctrines. He had to mediate between ontological and epis- 
temological realism, and if he had distinguished between them, he 
might have indicated more clearly a position that would have been less 
puzzling. 



296 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The real objection to this interpretation of Kant, implying that his 
doctrine is a form of epistemological realism, will be found in those 
statements regarding space and time in which he seems to deny abso- 
lutely all objectivity to them whatsoever and which seems to be the 
logical result of more equivocal assertions, I refer to two of them as 
clear illustrations. The first is near the beginning of the first " Alle- 
gemeine Anmerkung." He says that : "If we think awav the subject 
or the subjective form of sense, all qualities, all relations of objects in 
space and time, nay space and time themselves would vanish. They 
cannot exist as phenomena in themselves, but only in us."^ The 
second statement to which I call attention is near the beginning of 
section twent3'-three in the " Deduction der reinen Verstandesbegriffe." 
He says : " Space and time are valid as conditions of the possibility 
of objects as given to us in experience, but they are nothing more : for 
they belong only to the sense and have no reality bevond them."^ 
There are very many other similar statements, though perhaps not so 
definite and clear in their real or apparent denial of all objectivitv to 
space and time, as presumably affirmed by the realist. There are 
many that are equivocal because their interpretation is subject to all 
sorts of ambiguities in such terms as " Anschauung," " Erscheinung," 
" Vorstellung," " Gegcnstand," " Ausser," etc. But taken generally 
with what is understood from the intention of the system as reflected 
in conceptions that cannot be discussed here, the impression is over- 
whelming that the interpretation which I have presented as a possible 
one is not within the meaning of Kant. 

I am not going to dispute the apparent force of the facts or state- 
ments just noted, nor shall I be so confident that I have penetrated the 
mysteries of the Kantian doctrines as to claim more certitude for this 
interpretation than the possibilities involve. But I think that I can 
reinforce these possibilities by some importan<t qualifications of the 
passages which have been quoted and which are, perhaps, the strongest 
that Kant has used, while I refer to one or two statements by him ap- 
parently contradictory but quite consistent with the view that I am 
here taking of his probable thought. 

1 " Wenn Avir unser Subject oder audi nur die subjective Beschaft'enheit der 
Sinne iiberhaupt aufheben, alle die Beschaft'enheit, alle Verhaltnisse der objecte 
im Raum und Zeit, ja selbst Raum und Zeit verschwinden wiirden, und als 
Erscheinungen nicht an sich selbst, sondern nur in us existiren konnen." 

"- " Raum und Zeit gelten, als Bedingungen der moglichkeit, wie uns Gegen- 
standegegeben werden, nicht waiter, als fiir Gegenstande der Sinne, mithin der 
Erfalirung. Ueber diese Grenzen hinaus stellen sie gar Niclits vor ; denn sie 
sind nur in den Sinnen und haben ausser ilinen keine Wircklichkeit." 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 297 

The first qualification is that they are strong only in their isolation. 
We must not forget that Kant's terminology is such that its meaning 
cannot always be determined by the most obtrusive considerations, 
which are the common currency of the ideas expressed by the terms, 
I think that I have shown this in those passages which I have endeav- 
ored to interpret in the light of previous and contemporaneous phil- 
osophic conceptions. I apparently relied upon isolated passages for 
the interpretation which I have given, but in fact I chose them only as 
most favorable to the illustration of the method by which I think Kant 
must be judged. Their paradoxical and apparently contradictory 
character were precisely the statements whose meaning could be made 
evident only in the light of the philosophy which influenced the de- 
velopment of Kant. It is the same with isolated statements which 
seem to be opposed to the interpretation that I have been presenting. 
They must be understood in relation to the whole, or at least in rela- 
tion to the ideas that Kant once accepted and was now giving up. 
Whatever we think of Kant's Kritzk w"e must treat it as a unified 
system or a chaos. To assvmie that it is a chaos is to refuse to study 
the psychology of a mind that has all the appearances of being syste- 
matic. The fact that Kant, whether rationally or not, made his sys- 
tem turn about the distinctions between noumena and phenomena, 
sense and understanding, the subjectivity of space and time as opposed 
to their " reality," not necessarily to their objectivity, shows some 
kind of unity that is worth ascertaining, if for no other reason than as 
a ineans of discovering the apparent inconsistencies in it. Of course, 
if we can find any principle that will give the system a larger unity 
and intelligibility than is on the surface, or remove the difficulties 
^vhich many have in the study of it, the result m.a}^ be worth the jDains. 
Hence, for the reason just mentioned, namely, the evident existence 
of some ruling conception which determined the whole complicated 
doctrine, we must endeavor to ascertain just what unity or consistency 
and contradictions it contains. To do this we cannot relv upon iso- 
lated passages alone for either proving or disproving an interpretation. 
We must study the system in the light of the philosophic conceptions 
which certainly determined Kant's fundamental ideas in their content 
and which will make the interpretation intelligible and possible. 

Following out this method in regard to the passages quoted, I 
wish first to call attention to a minor matter that may be of some value, 
at least of a conditional kind, in the understanding of the psychological 
and logical influences operating unconsciously on Kant's mind. This 
is his use of the terms '-' Wirklich " and " Wirklichkeit," He uses 



29S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

them, at least apparently, as interchangeable with "real" and '' re- 
ality." This convertibilit}' of the terms may be disputed, unless by 
actual definition we clearly indicate their identity. Lotze remarks 
that " Wirklich " in the German language implies activity^ whether 
as effect as related to a cause, or as action which brings about this 
effect. In the history of philosophy, "real" and " realit\' " haye as 
often, perhaps most generally, had the implication of static existence 
of some sort. This conception w-ould enable us to describe space and 
time as thq realist does, and as Kant eyidently intends them to be 
described. On the assumption of his difference betw^een " real " and 
" wirklich," we can well understand Kant's repudiation of the objec- 
tivity of space and time in such statements as I haye quoted, especially 
as the only activity that he supposes in " knowledge" is the activity of 
objects in which space does not inhere as a " property," but of which 
it is a "condition," and also the pure activity of the understanding 
which unifies experience, and possibly the pure activity of " intuition " 
(reine Anschauung) as the origin of space "perception." That is, 
space and time as static realities do not and cannot act on sense, even 
if we suppose that sense " perceives" them as external objects of " in- 
tuition." This is clear in one passage in which Kant asks how it is 
possible to have an experience of absolutely empty space (Denn wer 
kann eine Erfahrung von Schlecthin-Leeren haben?). That Kant 
may have had this conception of " wdrklich " is quite possible when we 
observe the unconscious influence of Leibnitz on his thinking, as is 
definitely admitted in his use of spontaneity, especially as this general 
conception influences him in all but the 7-eceptivity of sense, and even 
in his conception of the causal action of objects on the subject wdiich 
must be active to produce sensations. I shall not urge the case, how- 
ever, solely on the strength of his possible use of "wirklich," as this 
may savor too much of a logomachy and because the real fact, which 
lies behind these isolated passages that I have quoted and that have 
their meaning determined by it, is Kant's doctrine of the " thing in 
itself." The w'hole question of what Kant means by the ideality of 
space and time, and of the interpretation wdiich I have here advanced, 
as connecting him more closely with epistemological realism than he 
and his defenders usually suppose, depends on this conception of a 
"thing in itself" which lies at the basis of his system. I shall have 
to traverse the whole problem again in the light of this idea. 

It is impossible to repress a smile as I approach this subject of the 
" thing in itself," after the floods of commentary and discussion that 
center about it. The subject reminds one of the famous passage in the 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 299 

Kritik about truth and the foggy ocean which we must traverse in 
search of it with more or less assurance of shipwreck and faiku'e. But 
I am not going to engage in any elaborate philological investigation of 
Kant's statements to elucidate this perplexing doctrine. I shall state 
it in general terms and allow the student to examine and verify the 
case for himself. 

The first thing to remark in any attempt to say what Kant meant 
by " Dinge an sich " is in the fluctuating conception which he himself 
took of them. This is most apparent in the modifications which were 
introduced into the second and later editions of his work. Every stu- 
dent will recall the discussion on noumena and phenomena in the first 
edition, omitted in the second and later editions, which distinctly indi- 
cat^that Kant at one time conceived "Dinge an sich " as the causes 
of phenomena. The omission of this in later discussions shows greater 
consistency in his doctrine, and intimates at the same time that he 
intended to abandon that idea. He found that he could not maintain 
this position, namely that they were the causes of phenomena, the 
condition of their being " known," and still assert that they were 
"unknown." He had only gradually moved from the metaphysical 
to the scientific state of his thinking and in the transition he carried 
the conceptions of the one over to the other when they should have 
been abandoned. He had been the victim of that philosophy which 
had retained the superphysical world as any explanation of all things 
after it had admitted the supersensible physical world at the basis of 
natural "knowledge." The superphysical world above space and 
time was the "thing in itself" and so at first the ultimate cause of 
everything. But the admission of causality into the physical world as 
the agency causing sensation, against Malebranche's " seeing all things 
in God," made it necessary to abandon the "Ding an sich" as the 
basis of " knowledge," and to reconstruct the whole problem. In the 
explanation of "knowledge" Kant started with the doctrine of the 
subjective nature of sensation in respect of its character as a mental 
act, but with an objective origin, and with this assumption he saw 
that he must take the view that it was non-presentative of the nature 
of reality. This made the distinction between the " nature of things " 
and their "appearance" necessary, so that if we should identify 
" knowledge " with the subjective states we should have to say that 
we did not "know " the " natvire of things," but only their " appear- 
ance." To escape from any such statement we should have to give 
that definition of " knowledge " which extended it beyond mere having- 
mental states to the " perception " or intuition of a transcendental 



300 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. \, 

reality. Kant never gives us as definite a notion of this as he should V, 
have done, but whether he did so or not is indifferent to the question -^T >■: 
as to what suggested the limitations of " knowledge" to the non-pre- ^ '- 
sentative realist. In this view, as with Kant, reality was considered " 
as the cause of sensation or " phenomena," and it was quite willing to 
admit a sense in which we did not " know" things. This sense was 
that of having them "in" consciousness though objects of it. For. 
"knowledge" it did not require to go "behind" this cause for anv- '^ 
thing else deeper, unless this cause gave evidence of being an effect, 
and when it went "behind" such a cause it did not find it necessarv 
to transcend space and time to obtain what it was pleased to call the 
Absolute. It was content to suppose a realitv that transcended all 
depetident reality, not any and all reality that might show equally 
independent character. It might or might not stop with " God," just 
as it pleased. But in so far as mediate or immediate "knowledge" 
was concerned, it could stop with a "nature" of things not given in 
sensory data, simply because these were assumed to be non-presenta- 
tive. Anything further depended on the discovery of relativit}' to 
causes in this "nature" of things. It was this tendency in general 
philosophic speculation to seek something more transcendental than the 
supersensible object of sensible experience that gave rise to the idea of 
a "thing in itself" above space and time, and having once accepted 
this with the assumption that all else was " phenomenon," mode, acci- 
dent, it was difficult to get away from this habit of thought when the 
cause became the supersensible object of experience. In other words, 
Kant never distinguished between presentative realism and scholastic 
transcendentalism, on the one hand, nor between non-presentative or 
hypothetical realism and the ontological realism, on the other, which 
he was combating. 

It was the influence of another philosophy than epistemological 
realism, whether of the " common sense " or the hypothetical sort, that 
produced Kant's conception of the "Ding an sich." It was the 
residuum left after he had studied Leibnitz and Spinoza and forgot to 
abandon after he had denied their doctrines. Spinoza taught him to 
conceive the " Absolute " as a prius of both physical and mental attri- 
butes, and hence as a prius of space and time. Leibnitz at least 
apparently taught him to believe in spaceless and timeless points of 
force as the basis of both mental and phvsical phenomena. These 
phenomena were given in " internal and external sense" (innere und 
aussere Sinnlichkeit), and were not representative of "things in 
themselves." Kant thus came to accept "realities" which not only 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 301 

transcended sense " knowledge," but which also transcended space and 
time, and then identified these "realities" with the non-presentative 
objects of the hypothetical realist who had never been implicated in 
the metaphysics of either Spinoza or Leibnitz. When he finally 
limited objective "knowledge" to sense, which the assumed realism 
of the Spinozists and Leibnitzians did not do, he ought to have given 
up the existence of any " thing in itself" and he would have had no 
trouble- k^4^s_^mblern,. He actually did abandon it logically when he 
said that it was "unknown," but he still clung to "things in them- 
selves" as facts after he had abandoned the evidence for them, namely, 
their causal action on the subject, and made his conception of them- 
nevertheless the basis of distinctions that were both unnecessary and 
misleading, because they were distinctions between nothing for 
"knowledge" and all that it did know. It is curious to call such a 
conception a limiting or defining concept (Grenzbegriff), and quite as 
curious also to call it a " begriff " of any kind after he had said that a 
" Ding an sich " was both " unknown" and indefinable ! 

Now to put this in common English, Kant, abandoning the view of 
Leibnitz that all activity originates with the subject and returning to 
the materialistic conception of sensation, started with the conception 
that we " know " things by virtue of their "properties" which are 
activities on sense. Then "with the view that space and time were 
conditions, not active "properties" of things and that " things in 
themselves" are spaceless and timeless, while space and time \vere 
"known" as facts in sensory experience or "intuition," Kant could 
only say that they were not properties of "things in themselves" and 
hence the last could not be " known," space and time being the con- 
ditions of both " knowledge " and reality. Consequently, for " knowl- 
edge " these "things in themselves" could have no properties what- 
ever. This was precisely what Kant had to mean by his " Ding an 
sich," and he indicated as much when he abandoned its causal Influence 
on sense. For "knowledge" it had to be an entirely propei'tyless 
reality because, on the one hand, it was not an object of sensory ex- 
perience, and on the other, was spaceless and timeless. This property- 
less reality, though regarding it as " unknown," in spite of its accep- 
tance as a fact, he confused with the non-presentative nature of things 
of the epistemological realist which was admittedly " known " as an 
object of judgment but not of sense. That is, Kant had two sets of 
" Dinge an sich," one a spaceless and timeless " reality" beyond all 
sensory " knowledge " and the other an " objective reality " which had 
properties capable of affecting sense but not presented in it. His 



302 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

conception was, as will be shown later in detail, that sensory " knowl- 
edge " was caused (efficiently) by objects, but that the sensory ideas 
did not represent or present the object directly to consciousness as 
" intuition," following the Leibnitzian postulate that nothing could be 
transmitted into the subject. This latter reality, the " object" of one 
form of realism, Kant admitted to be " known " at least in some sense, 
though he does'^imake it clear how w^e " know" it, as he did not con- 
sciously introduce into his Kritik the principle of Sufficient Reason , 
for the purpose of explicating his position, after having asserted in the 
Nova Dilucidatio that it should supplement the Principle of Identity 
in the problem of " knowledge." The Principle of Sufficient Reason 
was tacitly assumed and used in the explanation of the origin of sensory 
experience and the causal influence of "objects," but it was not 
analyzed and explicitly developed in a way to show the relation between 
the subjective and objective aspects of " knowledge." 

One of these " Dinge an sich" Kant obtained from a priori meta- 
physics and the other from the psychological interpretation of sensa- 
tion and its cause, and supposed from the process of abstraction con- 
nected with both of them that he was dealing with the same reality. 
As the former is a non-entity for " knowledge," it must be thrown out 
of all consideration in the problem of epistemology and all propositions 
■whose meaning is determined by the assumption of such a conception 
must be treated accordingly. This means that the distinctions in 
Kant's philosophy which are based upon the assumption of this non- 
entity must be declared useless. Hence in order to criticise or under- 
stand the Kantian doctrine of space, we have neither to defend the prop- . 
osition that space and time are "properties," or "relations," or 
" conditions" of things in themselves in this transcendental sense, nor 
to suppose the existence of such things at all. The only " Ding an 
sich," if the phrase be tolerated at all, which we need assume is the 
" objective reality" of the non-presentative realists which Kant actu- 
ally admits as the cause of sensation. This makes his position, 
whether you call it idealism or not, convertible with one form of real- 
ism, and the only question that remains is, whether he accepts any 
doctrine of the " objectivity" of space. Let us examine this question 
somewhat further. 

Owing to the double origin of Kant's conception of " Dinge an 
sich," the metaphysical origin of one and the psychological or episte- 
mological origin of the other, the denial that space is either a " prop- 
erty," "a relation," or a "condition" of "things in themselves" 
also has a double import. In connection with the former, it is not 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 303 

only a truism, an implication in the very conception of them both as 
"unknown" and as spaceless and timeless, but it also implies that 
these so-called " properties" have absolutely no i-elation 'whatever to 
them. In connection with the latter, it does mean that they have no 
relation to "reality" that is "known," but that they are not active 
"properties" of it, that is, not activities of sense, though I'clated to 
"objects" precisely as realists of all shades of belief have maintained. 
That this is the fact is clearly indicated by his calling it a " condition 
of external jDhenomena " (Bedingung der ausseren Erscheinungen), 
and his constant assignment of "objective reality" to the causes of 
sensation, even though it was qualified by terms associated with ideal- 
ism. There was an equivocation in his use of the term "phenom- 
enon " (Erscheinung) which I shall notice again and which shows 
that he had in mind the conception that I wish to defend. But it is 
most noticeable that he does not speak of space as a "property" of 
" external phenomena," but only as their " form" or " condition." 
There is an apparent exception to this statement. It is in the " Trans- 
cendental Exposition of Space." He says, speaking of it, "this 
pi"edicate is attributed to things in so far as they appear to us, that is, 
as objects of sense." This, however, it should be remarked, does not 
speak of space as a "property," but only as something predicable of 
things as "phenomena" (Erscheinungen), while it is conceived as a 
"condition" of them as " objects" precisely as the realists of the 
epistemological type, and many of the ontological type, have main- 
tained. But though he assigned space this relation, did he intend to 
regard it as objective or external in any sense? The answer to this 
question must combine several considerations, and among them must 
be a careful examination of Kant's conception of " phenomena." 

The first answer is the question whether any one is willing to 
maintain that Kant accepted solipsism. If he did not, he admitted the 
externality of something other than his sensations. It is apparent in 
his system that he did hold to objective existence other than himself, 
eyenjfjae-made this 'objectLve_exisience nothing. but A 
sciousness of another, and any man who goes this far has no absolute 
criterion" againsftTle^affirmation of other external reality, if its creden- 
tials are shown to be as good or the same as that which he believes, 
and which was accepted as a condition of having sense experience 
at all. 

Having found that Kant does admit an external reality, as a datum 
of sense, we then ask what he meant by "phenomenon" (Erschein- 
ung) and " object" (Gegenstand) . Did he regard these as objective. 



304 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

or mc7'ely subjective mental states in their nature non-presentative of 
external reality? 

The answer to this is simple and clear. (i) Kant's use of the 
term " phenomenon " is equivocal. It is very generally identified with 
sensation (Empfindung) , on the one hand, and with " object" (Gegen- 
stand), on the other, sensation and object not being intentionallv iden- 
tified at any time. Sensation Kant regards as a subjective mental state 
not like the qualities of objects and objects as the efficient causes of 
sensation. The idea that his " phenomenon" was " only appearance " 
without anything appearing is a misunderstanding of Kant's real doc- 
trine, as 1 think is cjuite evident from the next consideration. (2) 
Kant constantly identifies "phenomenon" (Erscheinung) and "ob- 
ject" (Gegenstand), and he as constantly refers to "objects of sense" 
in which he indicates that they are not sensations. He is even very 
careful to say that " Erscheinungen " are not illusions (Scheine), as 
students of him well know. He constantly speaks of objects affecting 
sense, so that his conception of them is that of causes of sensation, not 
the subjective states themselves. This gives them objectivity in a per- 
fectly rational sense of the term as external to the subject, and as thev 
may be non-presentative in nature we Have in " Erscheinung" and 
" Gegenstand " precisely the objective realities which were the " Ding 
an sich " of the hypothetical or non-presentative realists. (3) Kant 
actually defines "Erscheinung" as the " indefinite object of percep- 
tion" (der unbestimmte Gegenstand der Wahrnehmung), in which he 
both identifies " Erscheinung" and " Gegenstand " and implies that, 
though "Erscheinung" is a datum of sense, it is not always used to 
denote the sensation itself. The qualification " unbestimmt " indi- 
cates the abstraction of the subjective side of sense with the retention 
of a supersensible object and implies the same indefiniteness which the 
idealists generally like to charge against realists when these do not de- 
fine their "real" in terms of the principle of identity. The trouble 
with Kant was that he forgot the equivocal complexity of sense (Sinn- 
lichkeit) which, as representing subjective states, was a combination 
of sensation (Empfindung) and apprehension (Anschauung), and as 
representing the " knowledge" of external objects was a combination 
of sensation and judgment, the latter not being explicitly indicated by 
Kant. On the contrary, while it is Judgment that should have been ] 
his source for reality, objects of sense, he admits constantly that it is 
sense (Sinnlichkeit) through "Empfindung" and " Anschauung," or 
these together in "Wahrnehmung," that external objects are given. 
Sensations give or are subjective states, and " intuitions," which, 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 305 

though subjective acts, represent the " perception " of objects and are 
not the direct effects of external causes in the same sense that sensa- 
tions are. We may discover in this the key to the solution of the 
problem almost in Kant's own terms. Having found that he admits 
in " Gegenstande " an external reality other than mental states and that 
he applies the concept of objectivity to space we have to ask in what 
sense he does this. 

The answer to this question involves several observations and in the 
end a possible qualification with ^which the objectivity of space is 
admitted, (i) " Empfindung^.g^4s»sensations which are externally 
instigated but subjective in their nature : '-empirische Anschauung " 
gives "objects " (Gegenstande) which are objective realities acting on 
sense: " reine Anschauung" gives space and time, and the question 
remains whether these are objective also and related to " Gegenstande " 
as realists suppose without their being "properties" of objects acting 
on the subject. (3) Now " Gegenstande " affect sense by virtue of 
their " properties " which are dynamically conceived after the Leibnit- 
zian philosophy to be activities in some form. Through them and the 
sensations they produce " empirische Anschauung " obtains external 
reality or objects. I would add to this, what I think Kant would 
admit, namely, that it is the category of causality that must be impli- 
cated in " empirische Anschauung." (3) Space being infinite is not 
a property of matter (Gegenstande), and, whether infinite or not, is 
not an active function, but a static condition or predicate of it, and con- 
sequently cannot affect sense. The result is that, if we " perceive" it 
at all, we must do so by virtue of an " a p}-iori'' or spontaneous func- 
tion of sense, not stimulated bv external objects but instigated by the 
sensation itself. This is Kant's " reine Anschauung." Does it give 
external reality to its object? (4) All "intuitions" (Anschauungen) 
give objectivity, whether representative of the real or not and in spite 
of their subjective origin and nature as mental acts. Only " Empfin- 
dung " gives pure subjectivity. " Anschauung," which is considered 
as an act of the subject, has reference to external reality without regard 
to origin and simply because it is " intuition." Hence the case can be 
summarized as follows : 

" Empfindung " has an objective 07'igin^ but a subjective meaning ; 
"empirische Anschauung" has an objective origin and an objective 
meaning; "reine Anschauung" has a' subjective origin^ but an 
objective meanings as well as a subjective. The consequence is that 
we have two functions here for objectivity instead of the one general 
act of sensory " perception " as ordinarily conceived, the two being 

20 



3o6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

made necessary by Kant's conception of the limitations of reality in 
respect of its " properties," and possibly made necessary on any theory 
of the external world. But the complication of space " intuition " with 
the language of subjectivity in its genesis and meaning as such a prod- 
uct with the same description of sensation which did not represent 
reality in any sense made it difficult to understand any objective import 
in space "perception" without explicitly remarking that all cognitive 
consciousness involved this assumption, a view concealed here by the 
fact that it is possible Kant did not want the " percept " of space^ to 
be any more representative of real space than sensations were of 
objects, though it is equally possible that he did wish to admit that the 
space " percept " was more or less representative. 

The only objection that can be brought to this interpretation of 
Kant, and most readers would no doubt consider this as fatal, is the 
fact that Kant so persistently speaks of space as nothing apart from 
" phenomena," as I have already remarked, and that it would vanish 
if it were not for the " subjective " conditions of sense. This concep- 
tion is supported by his view that space " perception" may not hold 
for other forms of conscious beings, and that w^e do not know certainly 
whether it holds good for animals, but only that it is valid for all men. 
Such views seem quite clear, though one may ask the sceptical ques- 
tion how Kant knows that all men have an " intuition " which he so 
constantly describes as "subjective" when the same term is used to 
describe sensations ^vhich he explicitly indicates may not be universal. 
The most emphatic statements on his doctrine are in the section on 
" Transcendental Idealism as the Kej^ to the Solution of Cosmological 
Dialectics," where it would seem that the pure subjectivity of space 
was affirmed and its objectivity wholly denied. But in this very dis- 
cussion he uses language that is flatly contradictory unless we explain 
it on the assiimption of the interpretation which I have proposed. He 
first speaks of all "phenomena as modifications of sense" and then 
disputes the right of any one to identify this conception with that of 
dreams. In reply to such an interpretation of his view he then says 
that his doctrine of transcendental idealism permits " that the objects 
of external intuition, just as they are perceived in space, are also real, 
and that all changes in time, just as presented in the internal sense, are 
real. For as space is the form of that intuition which we call external 
and as no empirical conception can occur without objects in it, so we 
must suppose extended realities as real in it, and so also with time." 
Then immediatelv in the face of this he savs : " This space and time, 
and together with them all phenomena.are not things in themselves. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 307 

but nothing except presentations and have no existence outside our 
minds." These statements are either contradictory or they are intel- 
ligible only on the assumption that it is the presentations that are sub- 
jective while the " real " is objective, v\^hether represented by the sub- 
jective or not. As evidence of this, on the very next page Kant says 
that " the non-sensible cause of these presentations is totally unknown " 
(Die nichtsinnliche Ursache dieser Vorstellungeu ist uns giinzlich 
unbekannt) . Here we have his two " Dinge an sich " in one, its 
objective existence admitted, and its relation to " perception" asserted. 
It is evident that Kant's real conception of the case is simply that our 
"experience" or sense presentations are regarded as objectively 
caused, efficiently not materially, but are materially what the subject 
makes them, just as the Leibiiitzian point of view v^ould consider them. 
Whether they represent reality as it is will depend on the view we take 
either of the process of " perception" or of the nature of the subject. 
If the subject is sufficiently like the object to act in the same way the 
presentation may represent the object rightly. If it is not like it the 
presentation may not represent the object, and to secure the proper 
"knowledge" of the object as it is, we should have to endow "per- 
ception " with the function of seeing- facts as they are without reference 
to the mode of its initiation or the question as to the nature of sensa- 
tion, thvis distinguishing between sensation and "perception" in this 
way. Unless Kant does mean this in some way, it is perfectly absurd 
for him to speak of " objects " (Gegenstande) affecting sense when 
he is as constantly repeating that " objects " are the affection or modi- 
fication itself. He either assumes what I state of his real position or 
he does not know what he is talking about in this free use of equivo- 
cations. What Kant ought to have seen clearly, and to have admitted 
as frankly, was that he either could not use the language of subjectivity 
about space at all or had to give up the distinction between space 
"perception" and the phenomena of dreams and hallucinations, a 
distinction which he Insisted on retaining and gave no reason whatever 
for It. If he had remained on the premises of the Leibnitz ian philos- 
ophy he could well have Insisted on pure subjectivity of everything 
without supposing any objectivity whatever. But having returned to 
the position that sensations were caused from the external world he 
should have seen that his subjectivity implied objectivity of some kind, 
and Indeed he did see It, but did not use the fact as he should have 
done. We have found in later knowledge that even Illusions, halluci- 
nations, and dreams have their objective Import, being the resultant or 
effect of secondary stimuli and differing from normal sensations only 



3o8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

in their non-coordination with the usual and normal cause. With us 
subjectivity always implies some objectivity, even though it be non- 
^^x^resentative of it. 

The real crux of the case lies in Kant's point de repere for employ- 
ing this language of subjectivity at all in relation to space. It was his 
peculiar conception of "Ding an sich " which involved the double 
absurdity (i) of transcending all " known" reality and yet deserving 
a place in the theory of " knowledge," and (2) of limiting " knowl- 
edge " to "experience" while reality or the "Ding an sich " was 
the cause of that "experience." That is, if all that is "known" 
is sensible and the categories have no objective application he 
can neither assert the "unknown things in themselves" nor sup- 
pose them the cause of sensation. What Kant should have seen 
and emphasized was that it is one thing to sensibly "know" 
■ a fact and it is another to cognitively "know" it. This distinc- 
tion was implied in his reference to the "thing in itself" as the 
cause of sensible " experience," and was apparently implied in his 
doctrine of the categories, especially that of causation. But as his 
causality was nothing but coexistence and sequence made necessary, not 
efficient, in everything but the production of sensation, and hence noth- 
ing but the systematization of " experience," all his grounds for objec- 
tivity of any sort were baseless, though it is clear that he asserted the 
fact of it. One of his main difficulties was his abstract limitation of 
sense and understanding. He spoke of them as if they were separate 
functions, and having assumed that sense handed its data over to judg- 
ment for systematization he forgot to note that, in addition to synthe- 
tizing "experience" the judgment explained it by the category of 
causality, and thus used the principle of objectivity to make sense and 
the subjective rational. If then we find that we can reduce the ideal- 
ist to the dilemma between solipsism and the admission of some ex- 
ternality and show that Kant is in agreement with that realism which 
asserts objective reality without assuming that its "nature" is presen- 
tatively given in sensory states, we have a position in which Kant's 
" Anschauung" as a purely subjective act, not directly stimulated from 
without by space because it is not a " property " of matter but only a 
static condition of it, can have the jtieaning which should be given to 
all " intuition" of whatever origin or nature in his system, namely an 
objective.^ though possibly not presentative or representative, import, 
whether that meaning be given by direct "perception" or only by 
causal implication involving the immanency of judgment in sense ex- 
perience, explaining it as well as synthetizing different experiences. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 309 

Let me summarize Kant's doctrine. I have shown that he fluctu- 
ates between the " things in themselves" of the ontologists, which by 
his own definition of them must be wholly unrelated to " knowledge," 
.and the " real" of the epistemologists who suppose a causal relation 
between reality and consciousness, but a relation that was not the 
transmission of the " nature" of objects into consciousness, not a pres- 
entation of matter by material causes, but an efficient or occasional 
•cause of the sensations without constituting them. That is, Kant 
fluctuated, in his conception of " things in themselves," between a 
propertyless reality which is absolutely " unknown," and a causal 
reality which was relatively " known." But as there is perhaps gen- 
eral agreement that the former conception is useless, the existence of 
the latter makes Kant a realist in regard to the fact of external or 
•objective existence not presented \n. consciousness, and an idealist in 
regard to the nature of sensation and at least the origin of space 
" perception." The only question that remains is whether he con- 
ceived space as externally real in some sense as other than a mere mode 
•of consciousness. The distinction that he insisted upon between sen- 
^sation (Empfindung) and " intuition" (Anschauung) and the statement 
that space was objective while sensation was only subjective would 
make it a consistent supposition that this " intuition" could represent 
a content that might be either presentative or non-presentative, accord- 
ing as the facts required us to believe. If consciousness could assert 
the existence of " things in themselves " which were " unknown" and 
;spaceless, there should be no difficulty in conceiving that " intuition" 
•could give a reality which had no causal relation to the subject but 
which was incited on the occasion of sensation. The fact that " intui- 
tion " was another function than mere sensation permits the supposition 
that its capacity extends to the seeing objects that are not presented in 
the sensation. This is to say, that it may be of the very nature of 
" perception " to intuit or to assert something not consciousness and 
not iii consciousness in any other sense than that it is an object of it 
and, in the proper sense of the term, " outside" it. The reality may 
"be presentative or non-presentative, just as we please, the main thing 
being that all objectivity is meaningless unless one or the other is con- 
ceded, and it is within the Kantian system to make it objective in one 
sense. 

With this outcome of the development of the problem of " percep- 
tion" as a process and especially in connection with the idea of space, 
let us see how the phenomena of binocular vision affect both the Berke- 
ieian and the Kantian doctrines. There are just two things to discuss 



3IO THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPHV. 

in the jDroblem. There are (i) the question of the nativity and (2) 
the question of the ideality of space " jDerception." 

I shall confine the discussion of the first of these questions to the 
problem of solidity or the third dimension in the field of vision. I 
shall assume for the present and for the sake of argument that plane 
dimension is " in" the retinal image and that the fact guarantees the 
nativity of space "perception" for that dimension. I shall also as- 
sume for the sake of argument that the absence of the third dimension 
from the image creates a perplexity in the problem of " perceiving" 
it. It was all very easy and plausible for Berkeley and his followers 
to try to explain this " perception " of the third dimension in vision by 
association of tactual and muscular experiences with certain signs in 
vision, since they assumed the necessity of the presence in the image 
or " impression" of the quale to be naturally seen, if its " perception" 
was to be supposed a native function of that sense. But they were 
ignorant of important optical facts which indicate an agency for seeing 
what is not presented in the image. Brewster's and Wheatstone's 
work in binocular vision, showing that the " perception" of the third 
dimension was connected with the existence of disparate images on the 
different retinas, suggested the existence of an organism for the native 
"perception" of distance which Berkeley did not suspect, all this 
work having been done after his time and also after that of Kant, who 
seems not even to have been aware of the possible significance of 
Berkeley's theory of vision for his own views. We know that the 
work of Brewster led to the invention of the stereoscope and that this 
instrument was designed to illustrate precisely this organism for the 
"perception" of solidity where it was actually not in the " object." 
The same effect can be produced by the artificial combination of retinal 
images in the use of the naked eyes. Such experiments represent the 
drawing of figures of the same character except with that degree of dis- 
parateness which would be true of images from solid objects in normal 
vision and the fusion of their retinal images by crossing of the eyes or 
artificial convergence. The effect is in general the same as with the 
stereoscope, except that the perspective by artificial convergence and 
fusion is the reverse of that by the ordinary stereoscope. But in both we 
observe the " perception " of the third dimension when it is not in the 
object and when it is not in the image. I cannot reproduce all the 
facts and experimental illustrations showing this result and so must 
refer the reader to the experiments themselves.^ 

^ Mind, Vol. XIII., pp. 499-526 ; Vol. XIV., pp. 393-401 ; Vol. XVI., pp. 54- 
7Q. Psychological Revieiv,\o\. I., pp. 257-273, 581-601 ; Vol. IV., pp. 142-163^ 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 311 

The experiments recorded and described in these references exhibit 
the fact that geometric figures can be so drawn as to produce binocular 
parallax similar to that of solid objects in the retinal image and that 
the effect on the " perception" of distance or solidity is the same as in 
solid bodies. The simplest illustration is that of two oblique lines 
drawn sufiiciently far apart and more or less in vertical directions so 
that either artificial or stereoscopic fusion is possible. Their obliquity 
must be slight so that, when the fusion of one end with the same end 
of the other is effected the remaining points in the lines will be near 
enough corresponding points lying in the median plane to stimulate a 
tendency to their fusion. This will bring out the appearance of a line, 
lying not in a plane horizontal to that of the retina, but in a plane cutting 
this, the fused single line appearing to lie in the third dimension, with 
one point nearer and the other farther from the observer. The same effect 
can be produced by concentric circles except that it is a little more com- 
plex, the result being a frustum of a cone. The circles must be drawn 
in two sets each of two or more circles not having the same center 
and drawn symmetrically so that stereoscopic or artificial fusion will 
show the parallax necessary to elicit the "perception" of solidity. 
Now it is noticeable that fusion by convergence of the eyes on a focal 
point between the circles and the eyes results in a frustum of a cone 
with the larger and smaller base in one relation while fusion by focal 
convergence beyond the plane of the circles reverses this perspective 
or relation of the bases, showing that the act is an organic one and not 
associational. These figures can be varied in many ways and forms 
with the same general results in regard to the third dimension, but 
they are all simple variations of stereoscopic vision which can be tried 
by any one with greater ease than artificial convergence. A more 
striking incident is that of localization with reference to the point of 
fixation in attention rather than the point of physiological convergence. 
If two circles are drawn for stereoscopic purposes and then fused by 
artificial convergence they will, as we know, appear to be a single 
circle. If a pencil point be placed at the focal point of vision it will 
appear to be located in the same plane. But if placed beyond the 
focal point it will appear double, and if attention is now concentrated 
on these double images it is noticeable that the circle which before ap- 
peared at the focal point now will appear to be located beyond the 
pencil point and on the plane of the paper on which the real circles 

375-389- Leconte, " Sight:'' See list of Literature in Helmholtz's " Physiolo- 
gische O^itk," II. edition, pp. 1282-1295. Also the work of Hering, Aubert, 
Wundt, Stumpf, Lipps and Martius. 



312 THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPIIY. 

are drawn. If then the attention be returned to the circles and with- 
drawn from the j^encil jDoints the latter again appear beyond the circle 
and this at the focal point again. Here we have a condition in which 
the position of an object in the third dimension is determined bv the 
variations of attention without any muscular or motor variation of the 
eyes. In all there is evidently an organic function for " perceiving" 
the third dimension. Wheatstone showed with sufficient conclusive- 
ness that the "perception" of solidity was accompanied by the exis- 
tence of disparate images from solid objects and these diagrammatic 
experiments just described, show the same fact under conditions favor- 
able to the proof of the influence of this disparateness and with varia- 
tions that indicate a native function for the " perception" of solidity, 
a function at least apparently distinct from every form of association 
and inference. Whether it is properly so or not I shall examine pres- 
ently. But what I wish to note first is the fact that this solidity is not 
present in the image on the retina. We may say that it is represented 
there by the binocular parallax or disparate images. This is true that 
there is something in binocular images different from the merely 
monocular, but this difference is not identical with the difference be- 
tween plane and solid dimension though it elicits the latter in '•• per- 
ception." The difference is purely a matter of parallax in plane 
dimension or magnitude, while the " perceived" quale is the third di- 
mension. In such cases we undoubtedly see what is not in the '• im- 
pression." That is, there is no presentative correspondence between 
the " sensation" and the quality seen. The nativity of it is apparent 
in the miiform fixity of the " phenomena" and such variations as ex- 
hibit that uniformity in accordance with the alteration of conditions 
and not an alteration of effects M'ith the same conditions. That is, the 
relation of localization and perspective are determined by the nature of 
the parallax and not by inferential considerations. Association and 
Inference ought to make the result variable and capricious under the 
same conditions. That is, if association and inference be the somxe 
of the third dimension in such cases the perspective of solidity ought 
to involve localization as alterable as it is in monocular vision where 
geometrical figures, on account of mathematical perspective, and pic- 
tures, on account of light and shade, as Avell as mathematical perspec- 
tive, can have their form and apparent solidity seen very much as we 
please. Take the case of the geometrical cube as an illustration. A\'e 
can see the cube in more than one position. If we think of the way we 
wish to see it. Also geometrical figures representing a tube or tunnel, 
which can be made to appear with the small end nearer or farther 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 313 

from us, according as we wish to see it, the perspective being infer- 
entially or associationally interpretable as we please to see the repre- 
sentation. But this " phenomenon " does not occur in the experiments 
of binocular fusion of disparate images. The organic character of it 
and the variation of solidity according to the laws of fusion and the 
nature of the parallax show that it is natural and not associational 
either in the sense in which it is given or with the data of other 
senses. I do not care what may be said of its evolution. Anything 
may be granted in this field. I am concerned only with what it is 
now in the experience of the human race. This is simply that there is 
an organic function in vision for the " perception" of the third dimen- 
sion without having it presented in the retinal image as a tri-dimen- 
sional quale but only as parallax in plane dimension. 

I must call attention to an interesting difference between the experi- 
ments with geometrical figures and the facts of " perception " in nor- 
mal cases of solid objects. In normal binocular vision there are two 
facts to be observed in regard to the " impression." One of them is 
the fact of parallax and the other a factor not involving purely geomet- 
rical considerations. In geometrical figures there is nothing but simple 
parallax. In the case of solid objects this parallax is accompanied by 
some slight difference, insensibly slight of course, of intensity in the 
light, relative or absolute, and also mathematical perspective, as com- 
pared with the common part of the images. This might be said to be 
an important factor in the clearness of the third dimension in normal 
visual " perception." While I admit that it may affect the result, at 
least unconsciously, either by association or in the "perceptive" act, 
it is evidently not the decisive factor in the case, because in the experi- 
ments with geometrical figures this difference of intensity of the light 
and mathematical perspective are absent while the "perception" of 
solidity is either quite as clear as in the normal vision of solid objects 
or exhibits its entire independence of those associational influences. 
That is to say, the " perception " of the third dimension is apparently 
not affected by any circumstances but that of mathematical disparate- 
ness and parallax, so that inferential factors, supposedly associated 
with variations of intensity and mathematical perspective, are either 
excluded from view or are merely secondary concomitants and sup- 
plementary efficients in the result, the primary being binocular paral- 
lax. In the experiments, therefore, with geometrical figures we have 
the clearest evidence, against the claim of Berkeley, of the nativity of 
the " perception" of distance without the presence of that quale in the 
image or " impression." 



314 'I'lJE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The associational theory is easily disposed of by the remark that 
there is no reason for denying that tactual and muscular space become 
associated with the visual quale which I have been discussing. Ex- 
perience shows us in each sense certain indications of qualities in the 
cause which another sense gives directly. But this associability of 
certain facts in touch and muscular experience with the visual does not 
involve any identification of them ^vith the visual in the Berkeleian 
sense that the tactual is transferred to vision by suggestion. What I 
am discussing is the visual quale seen directly and not its inferred or 
associated correlate in experience foreign to sight and ^vhich indicates 
the presence in the object of precisely that quale which sight sees. 
We may very well discover by experience that a certain visual fact is 
associable with a certain tactual or muscular fact, or indicative of its 
presence in the object, and yet not identical with it as a presentative 
" percept," though we call it a space content in both senses. But this 
does not exclude the nativity of the datum in each case while it admits 
that their synthesis is a product of experience. Hence I deny the 
associational theory by admitting it, so to speak, while refusing to 
accept its relevance to the problem before us, which is not whether the 
visual quale has no tactual or muscular correlate, but whether there is 
not a visual " percept" that may be called the third dimension in that 
sense, whether interpretable or not in the equivalents of other types of 
that experience. The visual quale has its correlate in tactual and 
muscular phenomena, but it is not constituted bv it. The reason is 
that vision is our anticipatory and touch our protective sense, so to 
speak. Vision anticipates tactual experience and tactual experience is 
the test of what is and what is not safe. This fact always makes it 
necessary to interpret our visual experience in tactual correlates as a 
means of regulating our volitional actions and adjustments. But this 
utilitarian consideration in the process of development does not inter- 
fere with the nativity of the visual space quale any more than the 
associability of a taste with a color proves the empirical character of 
the latter. The question is whether there is a quale in sight which 
can be called space as well as one in touch to be called by the same 
name because it has the same meaning for action in both, and also 
whether it represents in the " impression" what is actually seen. 

The same general conclusion can be shown in plane dimension for 
the sense of vision. We have assumed that plane dimension is given 
in the retinal image and that this might be the reason for its native 
" perception," but while we cannot escape the supposition that this 
datum is present there, in the sense that the conditions on the retina 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 315 

are the same as external to it, yet there are two facts which must be 
considered in modification of the common idea of the case. First, the 
condition on the retina is not that of an image as it would be seen by 
another eye, in so far as we know about the matter. We suppose this 
only from our visual construction of what we see in the camera ob- 
scura where we are dealing with purely objective conditions. If, too, 
we could look at the retina from behind the scenes, as we can in the 
case of an eye taken from an animal, we might see an image. But 
this is no indication that the "impression" represents plane dimen- 
sion. All of plane dimension involved is in the dimension of the 
retina affected and not in the conditions that evoke the "perception" 
of magnitude. The second consideration is an experimental one of 
some interest. It is the variation of apparent magnitude without a 
corresponding variation of the retinal image. I have also described 
this in the papers to which I have referred above (p. 310) . The phe- 
nomenon represents the variation of magnitude of the frustum of a 
cone according to the focalization of the eyes and without any real 
alteration of the retinal "impression." If the eyes are focussed at a 
point within the plane on which the figures lie the bases of the fused 
figures appear smaller than the real circles, and if focussed beyond that 
plane they appear larger. Any stereoscopic figui'es will exhibit this 
effect. The image on the retina is such cases is not altered in its mag- 
nitude and conditions, and yet the visual magnitude of the object is 
modified, so that even plane dimension is subject to subjective influ- 
ences precisely as much as the third dimension. That is to say, there 
is even in plane dimension a disparity between what is seen and what 
is in the " impression," thus confirming the general theory that " per- 
ception " does not require to have its quale in sensation in order to 
become aware of it. 

If "experience," association, and "motor" phenomena are to be 
entitled to any consideration in the case, so far as my conception of 
the problem is concerned, they must be confined to the sense of vision 
whose data alone I am discussing, and simply for the reason that an 
associable tactual and muscular coi'relate is admitted in the case but 
refused the right to be considered the phenomenon in which we are 
interested. It is clear that within the sense of vision association does 
not determine the I'esult or anything in it, except the possibility of a 
tactual equivalent associable with it, and this association is irrelevant 
when true. That distance in vision is a "motor" phenomenon in 
vision does not alter the contention here made, namely, that the " per- 
ceived " quale is not, as " perceived," a part of the retinal " impres- 



3l6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sion." We may interpret " motor " phenomena any way we please, 
1 am not concerned with the so-called theory of " motor " phenomena 
in the explanation of space " perception." The position that there is a 
visual quale for the third dimension is wholly independent of that 
controversy. On any conception of "motor" sensations, whether 
they are merely sensory facts involving the consciousness of motion or 
not, whether the function of " motor " centers is distinguished from 
that of sensory centers or not, the quale "perceived" as a result of 
binocular parallax or as a result of variations of fixation, is not pre- 
sented in the image, and this fact is sufficient to prove that the visual 
"percept" is not similar to the datum in the sensory " impression," 
" Knowledge " transcends sensation and extends to objects. 

This conclusion is very distinctly confirmed by the "phenomena" 
of upright vision, and in a manner which absolutely prohibits the in- 
fluence of association with tactual and muscular experience. We 
know that the retinal image is inverted and that nevertheless objects 
are seen in their proper position and relations. I shall not repeat here 
the evidence of this assertion, but shall simply refer the reader to the 
proper sources.^ We find in experiment that the line of reference for 
the localization of points in objects is in what may be called a line ver- 
tical to the plane of the retina, a fact that overcomes the inversion of the 
image in refraction of the rays of light. Phosphenes and Purkinje's 
experiment exhibits this law very clearly and conclusively. It is appa- 
rent in all of them, whether we appeal to association or not, an appeal 
that is shown to be false, that there is no principle of vision requiring 
"perception" to reproduce the relations in the retina in its judgment 
of reality. We at least apparently see objects as they are without any 
identity between the image and the reality. Whether we see objects 
as they are or not, we do not find the quale seen in the " impression." 
The act of " perception" is independent of this condition, even though 
incited by it. 

It would thus appear that we can state a general conclusion against 
Berkeley, namely, that we can have objects of consciousness ^vhich 
are not " z';? " sensation and so not " in " consciousness as a state of 
ti:ie organism. Thus " perception " may transcend the states and affec- 
tion of the sensorium. I do not mean by this form of statement to 
dispute the idealistic theory of "knowledge" which may still contend 
that the cognitive act is a distinct subjective function as creative of its 
"object" as sensation is a subjective reaction. The whole doc- 

' Le Conte, " Sight," pp. 59-76, II. Edition. Psyc/iological Rcviezv, Vol. IV., 
pp. 142-163. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 317 

trine of idealism, in so far as present contention is concerned, is 
indifferent to what is maintained as tiae result of binocular experiment. 
All that 1 am emphasizing at present is the discrepancy between the 
retinal or sensorial image and the dimensional quale " perceived." 
Assuming what we know of optics to be true this quale is not in the 
" impression," though " perceived," and though the whole process be 
"ideal" or subjective, there is nevertheless the difference between 
what is in the "impression" on the sensoriuin and what is "per- 
ceived," a fact which lends at least apparent support to the dictum that 
"perception" transcends the subjective in its determinations, cer- 
tainly the subjective of sensation. 

It is apparent how such a conclusion affects the whole doctrine of 
"knowledge" as formulated by those idealists who insist upon ex- 
pressing themselves in language at least apparently implying that we 
cannot "know" anything other than our mental states, w^ith a ten- 
dency to limit it to sensations and their systematization. Whatever it 
means it is certain that we can express the phenomena of vision which 
are under discussion only in language implying that we see what is 
not '•'■in" the "impression'* or sensory consciousness as sensation is 
usually called. Apparently the doctrine of realism is the only one 
that consists with this view. 

But the idealist can put in a most interesting reply at this point. 
He can call attention to the fact that this very discrepancy between 
the " impression " and the "percept" is evidence that the quale is 
purely a mental construction. The "phenomena" and experiments 
that have been under consideration may be quoted as proving this fact 
and as showing the correctness of what is taken for Kant's doctrine of 
idealism while showing the incorrectness of Berkeley's view of the 
case at least in the assumption with vvhich he conducted the argument. 
Thus while it is clear that the quale "perceived " is not, as such, in 
the " impression," the geometric figures chosen to bring this fact into 
clear relief also show that the quale " perceived " is not in the object. 
Plane figures are seen as solids, and lines in plane dimension are seen 
in the third dimension. That is, the " percept " is neither in the " im- 
pression " nor /;z the "object." Thus it would seem that the mind 
supplies the quale which is in neither the sensation nor the object, 
and consequently we should seem to have proved idealism instead of 
realism. The space quale seems to be a construction of the mind pure 
and simple, whether treated as a prio}'i or empirical. 

It is not easy to refute such a claim, and at least in so far as mere 
subjectivity of action is concerned, I am not interested in disputing it. 



3l8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

I am quite willing to admit the " ideality " of space, in the same sense 
in which the " ideality" of all mental states must be admitted, and if 
the facts force me to it, will admit it in any sense whatever, and so 
accept what is supposed to be the doctrine of Kant. But I must con- 
tend for the possibility that this subjectivity of space "perception" 
may consist with its objectivity in either the presentative or non-^^re- 
sentative sense. The "perception" of it, however, when it is demon- 
strably not in the object would seem to show either that it could not be 
presentative or that its objective existence would have to be made con- 
sistent with the denial of it as any quality or predicate of matter. 
Binocular parallax undoubtedly gives rise to the mental construction 
or "perception" of the third dimension, and shows, apparently at 
least, that space "perception" Is a synthetic function of sense and not 
necessarily identified with it in all its forms and conditions, but there is 
nothing in this fact to prevent the supposition that the construction cor- 
rectly represents an objective fact, especially when it is conceded that 
the quale is not necessarily a predicate of the object which stimulates 
the sensory state, as there will be no necessity for making its objectivity 
depend upon the consideration that it be such a " property." That is 
to say, the ideal construction may have an objective meaning, though 
it has a purely subjective genesis not in the "impression" and repre- 
sents a reality neither in the sensation nor a propertv of the object 
necessarily. The only thing that the psychologist would have to do 
is to show that there is evidence of that fact. Transcendencv of any 
sort having once been established, and transcendency of sensation is 
established in space " perception," even though it be nothing more 
than a synthetic function associated with sense, these limits must be 
defined before we can dogmatically assert that " perception" is char- 
acterized by the same subjective meaning as sensation, and if they are 
not equally defined, it is only a question of evidence to determine 
whether its meaning does not extend beyond the subjectivitv of sensa- 
tions. That is, may it not be possible that the mind is adapted to con- 
struct a quale which represents the actual facts, or some actually 
objective facts, In the external world, though these facts are not pre- 
sented in the " impression" and are not "properties" of matter sen- 
sible or supersensible? 

The first thing to be noticed in replv to such a question is the fact 
that the binocular experiments described and discussed represent a 
somewhat abnormal condition of vision, resembling in many respects 
the "perception" of objects through colored glasses. The fact that 
colored glass alters the appearance of things does not interfere with 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 319 

their objectivity nor with the objectivity of their color as normally 
seen. It only alters the conditions under which they can be seen at 
all. I grant that such phenomena suggest important questions, but 
they do not eliminate objectivity even of the qualities that are thus dis- 
torted. The very fact that space " perception" is an additional func- 
tion to that of sensation and may vary in its " percept," while that of 
color, sound, taste, etc., may remain constant, shows how the actual 
relations of objects may be distorted, as in a mirror, without denying 
their normal relation to " perception." If space were not possibly a 
variant with a sensational content, it would be otherwise, and to those 
who treat space as a " property" of matter the argument for its ideal- 
ity might appear more cogent in such facts as I have mentioned in 
binocular vision. But the very fact that it is a synthetic function 
superadded to sensation only makes it possible for illusions to arise in 
this " percept" when there are none in sensations. 

A further fact is of much importance in this connection. We 
should have solipsism to face, as I have already shown, if we niade 
sensation, space and " objects " purely subjective. Now Berkeley and 
Kant admitted the existence of "objective" facts of some sort. 
Berkeley denied the existence of "matter" but admitted that of 
"spirit." Kant admitted matter or a non-sensible cause (nichtsinn- 
liche Ursache) of sensations, and the existence of other individual 
centers of consciousness, or social persons. This he did in spite of his 
radical ideality of " knowledge," though I have tried to show that his 
position was that of hypothetical realism, which he would not have 
called this, as the real to him would have been a categorical implicate 
of causality, had he formulated the relation of cause to the existence 
or occurrence of sensations as he did to their synthesis. There is, 
therefore, in his admission the possibility that space construction only 
reproduces the quality of external reality, a conception rendered all the 
more conceivable from the discrepancy between sensation and " percep- 
tion," the capacity of the latter for extension beyond the former being 
assumed in the very fact that its contents are not limited to the sensa- 
tion. That matter should be conceded objectivity in spite of the sub- 
jectivity of sensation would only make it all the more imperative to 
recognize the tenacity and Inexpugnability of space " percepts " for 
objectivity, especially when they are the data for giving what meaning 
objectivity has. 

Somewhat suggestive evidence can be drawn from the general law 
of evolution. In this we find that there is a tendency of individuals to 
adjust themselves to environment in a way to resemble it in their 



320 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

functional action. In some cases this even takes the form of oi'iginat- 
ing the most positive resemblance in the subject to qualities in the 
object. This is especially noticeable in the phenomena of color adap- 
tation, and even in some cases aspects of form resembling environment. 
In some cases this may require but a short time. The hare will change 
the color of its fur for summer and winter to suit its surroundings. If 
evolution effects such adaptations as this it is quite possible that it 
might develop in consciousness the capacity of " ideal " or subjective 
action which would represent correctly the nature of objective reality 
and present no other antithesis to it than is necessary to preserve indi- 
viduality. This ought to be the less objectionable that Kant admits, 
as I have said, the existence of other persons like himself, which 
assumes resemblances between subject and object, and wdth the Leib- 
nltzian view the action of the one simply mirrors that of the other, so 
that the subjective is a true representative of the objective. I do not 
think that this is a true description of the whole case, and because this 
is the fact it is difficult to show when the objective is correctly and 
when incorrectly represented. Besides there are antitheses betsyeen 
subject and object, and w^e have to be able to draw the line between 
what is subjective and objective in each case, and that may not always 
be an easy task. But I do not refer to the " phenomena " of adapta- 
tion to prove the correctness of objective " perception" nor to prove 
the resemblance between " impression" and object : for the difference 
between these has to be admitted on any theory. I refer to the fact 
only to show that evolution may so develop capacities that, whether 
like what they represent or not, may correctly report realit}- and it is 
only a question of evidence to decide whether it has done so or not. 
Besides it might even fail to make the cognition presentative and yet 
be correct in the assertion of objectivity. All that adjustment requires 
or may mean is that there is an objective reality to be reckoned with 
in "knowledge" and action, and whether it is presentative or non- 
presentative is a secondary question. 

But it is the " phenomenon" of upright vision that offers the most 
distinct evidence of this adjustment and of the possibility even that 
"perception" may represent space relations correctly without being 
presentative. We have seen that the retinal images of objects are in- 
verted, that is, the relative positions of points in these images are the 
inverse of what thev are in objects producing them, and this can be 
expressed without assuming the space ideas of " perception," in so far 
as the argument here is concerned. We do not have to go beyond the 
" idealitv " of these objects to recognize the fact. It is a fact on any 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 321 

theory of reality. A double Interest attaches to it. There is the radi- 
cal difference between the sensory " impression" and the " percept " 
and the fact that the " percept " reproduces the objective relation and not 
the subjective. However much " ideality " we assign the act of " per- 
ception " in this case it reports the external and not the sensory condi- 
tion. What is additionally interesting is the circumstance that the 
reproduction of the objective relations conforms to the tactual and 
muscular quale, according to the testimony of the associationist, so 
that we might even claim that the visual and tactual data are the same 
in kind, and thus an evidence of the nativity of visual space while we 
sustain its objectivity in spite of its " ideal " genesis. I shall not urge 
this view, however, as there are undoubted differences, whatever the 
resemblances between visual and tactual qiialia. Possibly a further 
vantage ground could be gained by suggesting that our conception of 
the nature of the image or " impression" is indirectly secured by infer- 
ence, so that the very assumption of what is subjective may be the 
wrong point of view with which to start in the interpretation of the 
phenomena, as examination may show that, according to the theory of 
physics and optics, that the "impression" is nothing but a mode of 
motion in the retina whose extended character is Itself a matter of 
inferential construction, so that the "perceptive" act in transcending 
the subjective may correctly report the objective relation as it certainly 
does not report immediately the inverted relation of the " Image" on 
the retina. But I shall not use this argument too insistently. The 
important fact Is the adaptation of " perception " to the objective con- 
ditions, in so far as they are either comparable with the subjective or 
determinable at all. It is noticeable In this connection also that there 
are certain insects whose retina is convex instead of concave, according 
to the authority of Professor Le Conte, on which the image Is upright 
and not inverted, and the evidence goes that, in spite of this convexity 
objects are seen precisely as \\q see them, the law of reference being 
in their eyes precisely as it Is In the human eye, so that the line of 
direction in a convex surface is the same in effect as that in the con- 
cave, the image being in the one the reverse of the other. The adap- 
tation of the act of consciousness to the objective In this Instance seems 
anomalous, but after all Is only according to the same general law, and 
confirmatory of the fact that objectivity Is entitled to as much con- 
sideration in "perception" as subjectivity. 

There is a way In which the apparent force of the binocular experi- 
ments which I have described as favoring the idealistic interpretation 
of space " perception " may be broken or modified. It is to note the 



32 2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

fact that the distortion of phme and solid dimension in the figures indi- 
cated not only re^^rcsents an abnormal condition, as 1 have already 
remarked, involving the incoordination of distinct functions in vision, 
but also represents the phenomena of localization in space rather than 
the true " perce^^tion " of space. This is to imply that the real and 
true space is given in the properly " j^erceptive " act representing 
extension in the abstract, if I may so speak, and that the specific rela- 
tion of objects to it may represent what might be called " emjDirical 
space," in Kantian phraseology, the sensory phantasm which is the 
sensational correspondent or correlate of what is essentiallv non-sensory 
in its primary nature. Thus in the variations of perspective and magni- 
tude, according to the degree of convergence as described in the experi- 
ments, the space " percept " as a whole, the " pure intuition," remains 
constant while it is only the locus of objects in it that exhibits the vari- 
ants. We may thus distinguish between localization and the x'eal space 
"perception" which represents more than sensory data, while the 
synthetic character of this fvmction added to the sensory, not implicated 
in it, exposes it to distortion and illusion. The experiments may 
therefore not be so conclusive as they appear against the space quale 
or reality of objects, especiallv as "we have to admit that the conditions 
under which the "perception" takes place are abnormal, while the 
normal represent the result of evolutionary adjustment to the objective 
world. This sort of argument and reply may not be fully satisfactory, 
but it rejoresents a fact which must be considered in the case, the more 
or less abnormal conditions under which artificial fusion takes place, 
even though the functions involved act normally, the synthetic character 
of the normal process being proved and liable to distortion when 
conditions change. 

But the great puzzle for most minds is the real or apparent demand 
that we shall treat space as having a wholly " ideal " meaning, as hav- 
ing a merely " subjective " and not an " objective " or external reality, 
while the sensorv data of color, sound, hardness, etc., if not represen- 
tative of an external reality, have at least a meaning for the existence 
of something " external " to the ego. Of course Kant might hold to 
that paradoxical view of the world which so idealizes it because of his 
Leibnitz ian conceptions involving the entire spontaneity of knowledge 
and the receptivity of nothing, on the one hand, and the spaceless 
nature of matter or reality, on the other, that is, its consistence in 
spaceless points of force, according to the conceptions of some of its 
exponents. Its nature was not imported into consciousness, though 
it could arouse in consciousness a cognition of its existence, but not in 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 333 

its real character. It thus involved the idea that sensation implied or 
indicated objectivity even when it did not simulate or represent it in 
its nature. But the derivation of space from subjective intuition 
seemed to leave this " percept" without an objective meaning, simply 
because it was not evoked by the principle of causality as usually ap- 
plied to sensory data. Sensible qualities were given an objective im- 
port, but space was not, and yet space was so inextricably interwoven 
with sense ' ' percepts " that it seemed absurd or paradoxical to refuse 
it a similar objective meaning, and involved the strange conception 
that the external world was spaceless, though its spatiality seems a 
necessary implicate of its otherness than the subject, and that the total 
sense " percept " of consciousness, involving sensory and spatial qualia, 
is a synthesis of functioiis which are assumed to have different mean- 
ings, one of them having a reference to the objective and the other 
having no such reference. 

From one point of view this position may be consistent enough. 
Kant's doctrine of the " receptivity " of sense involved him, consciously 
or unconsciously, in the materialistic interpretation of sensation, at 
least to some extent, whether he interpreted it from the principle of 
material or efficient causation. But Kant does not emphasize the posi- 
tion that his knowledge of external reality is based upon the principle 
of causality, though this conception of it is tacitly assumed In his theory 
of sense " perception." This is where he obtains his objective refer- 
ence of sensation, that is, of the sensible qualities of matter or reality. 
But the principle of causality Is just as tacitly excluded from space 
" perception," since this is said to be an a priori Intuition of the mind 
superimposed upon the matter of sensation not contained. Thus the 
two associated functions of sensation and space " perception" may ap- 
pear to be connected without having similar meanings for reality. 

But two things are forgotten in this view of the case. The first is 
the confused conception of sensation which Kant holds. On the one 
hand, he conceives It as a "receptive" product, which, when strictly 
interpreted. Implies that It is to be explained by the principle of 7nate- 
rial causality, the principle of identity, wdilch would give its objective 
meaning to be the same as the subjective. This position would be 
that of naive realism or common sense. In which external reality Is as 
it appears, according to Kantian and other representations. This 
fundamental conception of "receptivity" is a departure from Leib- 
nitz Ian ideas which excluded this transmission or injluxus physicus^ 
and involves this naive realism, which. If accepted, might account for 
the synthetic relation of space to sensation or sensory qualities by im- 



334 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

jDlicating it with the mode of causal action of reaHty without giving 
space any causal action itself. Kant, however, does not accept this 
view of "receptivity." After defining sensation as "receptive" he 
takes a view which is an abandonment of this " receptivity " altogether 
and in every strict meaning of the term. Hence the second thing that 
is forgotten is the fact that Kant still clings to the Leibnitz ian notion 
that sensations are "phenomenal," that they are subjective reactions 
against external stimulus, that they are not representative simulacra of 
reality, but modes of mental action unlike the nature of the occasion- 
ing cause. This is an interpretation of sensation according to the 
principle of efficie?it causality, and assumes an getiological but not an 
ontological relation between subject and object, that is, a causal rela- 
tion without implying their identity, even though that identity be other- 
wise discovered to be a fact. This interpretation of sensation bv the 
conception of efficient causation and excluding the material is an aband- 
onment of its true " receptivity " and a return to the " spontaneity " of 
Leibnitz in so far as the nature of sensation is concerned, though not 
in so far as its occiirrencc is concerned.' But in spite of this view and 
of the return to the Leibnitzian conception it retains the belief in ex- 
ternal reality which in the first conception depended upon the principle 
of identity in conjunction with that of efficient causality. But having 
eliminated the principle of identity, material causation, from the case, 
he had either to retain the judgment of objectivity in connection with that 
of efficient causality, or to accept solipsism. But refusing to accept 
solipsism, as Kant's refutation of idealism was meant to indicate, and 
assigning sensation an objective meaning or interpretation through 
efficient causation alone, Kant ought to have seen that he could take a 
new conception of knowledge, as the recognition of the principle of 
" Sufficient Reason" in the Nova Dilucidatio implied, supplementing 
that of Identity, and so instead of supposing that consciousness could not 
transcend itself, as it certainly could not do on the principle of identity, 
he could hold this transcendence on the principle of efficient causality. 
But once grant that it is the function of consciousness to transcend 
itself in knowledge, the only limitations which it will possess will be 
determined by the extent to which we condition that transcendence by 
the principle of efficient causalitv alone. If efficient causality repre- 
sent the sole meaning of objectivity it would be impossible to assign 
space any objective reality so long as we denied its causal influence 
upon the subject. Space would be a functional action of the subject 

^ A clear statement of Kant's own point of view appears in his view of mat- 
ter. " Transcendental Dialectic," Max MuUer's translation, Vol. II., pp. 333-336. 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 325 

on non-spatial objective "phenomena." So far Kant would be con- 
sistent, and we could secure objective reality to space only by assuming 
some other principle of objectivity than efficient causality alone. 

But there are certain important facts which his system neglects to 
notice. The first is that the principle of efficient causality does not 
necessarily involve the judgment of external reality in all its functional 
applications. It also determines the existence of the ego or internal 
r^ality^and shows no tendency in doing so to conceive it objectively, j 
Consequently, existence other than the fact to be related may be 
affirmed without necessarily involving externality or objectivity of a 
spatial character. How then does the mind ever discriminate at all 
between the internal and external, the subjective and the objective, as 
Kant did? Why should not all our judgments be solipsistic? The . 
reply to these questions comes back to the fact that efficient or other 
causality is not the sole principle of objectivity. Objective reality has 
more meaning than efficient causality, though this be one of its ele- 
ments when matter is concerned, so that the transcendency of con- 
sciousness, while it is guaranteed in one relation by the principle of 
efficient causality, may involve functions that assert it without apply- 
ing such causation as its sole condition or determinant. How can 
this be done? 

The first answer to this question is that, if space were not an ob- 
jective fact of some kind, there would be no reason whatever for the 
variations of magnitude and distance which we observe in connection 
with sensations. There ought to be perfect constancy in our notion of 
magnitude and distance, since the nature of the sensory impression is 
and must be regarded in the Kantian view as of a uniform character in 
its qualitative aspects. The Kantian must assume that spatial qvialia 
are no intrinsic part of sensation or of its object and so cannot be any 
part of the impression or stimulus, but that they are superadded or 
synthetic additions to sensory "phenomena" or phantasms, additions 
to data not containing them. Hence sensations will be conceived as 
having a uniform quality and will vary only in degree of intensity. 
But there is no apparent relation whatever between the quantitative 
aspect of sensations and the spatial qualia associated with them, as 
there should be if these qualia were expressions or correlates of inten- 
sity in sensory data. The causes of sensation must, therefore, exist 
in some relation that affects the mind in a way to call out or occasion 
the spatial quale in a particular form, and that relation may as well be 
called objective " space" as anything else, though subjective " space" 
be unlike it in character, just as physical " color" and " sound" are 



326 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

supposed to be unlike physical " color " and " sound." On any other 
condition, all space relations in sensation ought to represent a qualita- 
tive uniformity which they do not do in fact. If the mind determines 
the whole spatial quale without any reference to the conditions of ex- 
ternal reality it should represent it with some such uniformity as the 
specific nerve energies represent sensation which are constant in quality 
and vary only with variations in the objective reality. Hence varia- 
tions in the space qualia or relations independent of quantity and 
quality in sensations suggest an objective relation of some kind other 
than the assumed non-spatial dynamic activity of matter. Magnitude and 
distance bear no known relation or correlation with either the quality or 
the quantity, the nature or the intensity, of sensations, according to 
the necessary conceptions of the Kantian, applying non-spatial caus- 
ality to one and excluding it from the other. Hence it would appear 
that the variations of this fundamental product of consciousness are in 
some way correlated with variations and relations in reality which are 
presvunably not a part of the content of sensation. This would sug- 
gest that spatial qualia have some meaning beyond consciousness or 
sensory phantasms, and evolution, of whose significance Kant could 
take no account, comes in w"ith its principle of adjustment to environ- 
ment, a conception excluded from the Leibnitz ian doctrine, to render 
probable an objective explanation for space qualia, even though we do 
not make them representative in consciousness of that which is implied. 
The force of the Kantian view, as usually conceived and defined, 
depends on assumptions that are derived from the Leibnitz ian philos- 
ophy. This system made the transmission of impressions from with- 
out impossible. That is, the external world could not be causally 
admitted into the internal world, and hence the "phenomenal" 
nature of what was "known," and the "unknown" or "unknow- 
able " was beyond. This conception of the case gave rise to the 
assumption, either implicit or explicit, tacit or conscious, that \ve could 
not " perceive " what is not in the sensation. When, therefore, the 
external world is conceived as spaceless in its real nature, it cannot 
produce a spatial quale in the impression by any ontological influences, 
as these are not even admissible for matter, and both the ontological 
and the cetiological agency of space is denied, even though it be 
accorded an objective existence. Consequently space "perception" 
will appear as an a priori subjective function and phantasm or intui- 
tion, supposedly not representative of any corresponding objective 
reality for the reason that there is no assumed causal action to evoke 
it. But if consciousness transcends itself, as it were, in applying the 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. ■^2'J 

23rinciple of causality as explained, so that it is of the nature of con- 
sciousness in certain conditions to affirm something not in the impres- 
sion or sensation, and if the principle of causality in its purity does not 
necessarily imply what is known as an external world, there must be 
some other function for discriminating between the internal and 
external, and this is in fact the conception of space. That this func- 
tion of consciousness exists is clearly illustrated in the binocular " per- 
ception " of the third dimension, as has been indicated, where we do 
not assume a corresponding or representative relation to causality in 
the object or in the contents of the sensation, as usually conceived. 
Here the mind " perceives " what is not " in " the sensation and tran- 
scends itself, as a "phenomenal" occurrence, in positing its object. 
This is to say that space can be produced or posited without being a 
part of the impressions or sensations associated with it, that is, with- 
out entering into the material content of the impression from without. 

But I shall be told that this is precisely what Kant wishes us to 
consider it and that we have not secured its objectivity until we have 
shown that space is a part of the external reality which acts causally 
on the subject. It is supposed to be purely subjective only because 
causal action is denied to space, both ^etiological and ontological, and 
it is said to represent no part of the sensory content imported or occa- 
sioned by material reality. Assuming that the object does not transmit 
its properties or appearances to the subject and that space cannot act 
on the subject at all, as it is not a " property" of the object, according 
to Kant, the objectivity of space will seem to depend, not merely on 
"perceiving" what is not " in" the sensation, but also in "perceiv- 
ing" what is " in" the object though not causally active and what is 
assumed to envelop and to be independent of the object and yet not 
acting causally on the subject. But if, in seeing space, we seem to see 
what is really or apparently not a property of the object, it would 
appear that the spatial qualia are wholly subjective and do not refer to 
a corresponding objective reality. 

Now this seems to be the fact in the binocular "perception" of 
solidity or the third dimension, especially in artificial fusion of images 
in plane dimension. That is, objects that are demonstrably not solid 
at all on any theory of space appear to have a third dimension. That 
is, we seem to see what is not in the object as well as not in the sen- 
sation, a fact which would seem to imply that the spatial qualia are 
subjective constructions only and without objective meaning. 

The first thing to consider in reply to this view is that, in conceiv- 
ing an objective reality for space, we are no more obliged to represent 



328 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

it as objectively what it is subjectively than we are obliged to suppose 
subjective " color" to be the same as objective '• color." We are not 
anymore required to apply the principle of identity to space " per- 
ception" than to the "perception" of sensory qualities. We may 
suppose the same sort of differences between subjective and objective 
space that we assume between sensation and the qualities or conditions 
that give rise to them. All that objective space requires to be is some 
relation in which things exist and that will account for the peculiar 
way in which they are seen when the sensations will not account for 
it and when it cannot explain the variations in the spatial qualia asso- 
ciated with sensations. 

The second point in reply is that it is easy to misunderstand and to 
misrepresent the import of what is apparent in the binocular phenom- 
ena that seem to illustrate the "perception" of what is not in the 
object. The " perception" of solidity, when the objects are known to 
be geometrically plane figures, is properly speaking a problem of 
localization in a spatial continuum not wholly determined by the fig- 
ures concerned. W^e do not really see a solid object in such cases, 
but only two plane figures localized in the relative positions which the 
superficies of a solid object would represent. The real spatial 
qualia^ magnitude and distance^ are the same whether the Jigures 
are seen as plane or solid ^ and the appearance of the latter under cer- 
tain conditions is only a matter of localization under anomalous and 
abnormal circumstances in a spatial continuum which is not deter- 
mined by either the function of localization or by the fact of the par- 
ticular stimulus, especially when this localization involves the malad- 
justment of the functions of sensation and of space "perception." I 
do not dispute the real or apparent distortion of the supposed spatial 
relations of objects under these conditions or that thev are seen to be 
or to appear in a different form from that which is their proper char- 
acter. Nor would I dispute a subjective character for space quite like 
the subjective character of all sensory " perceptions," in so far as they 
are " phenomenal" reactions. But what I am trN'ing to insist upon is 
the view that there is some condition or relation objective to the mind 
besides color, sound, hardness, etc., which may be treated as the cor- 
relate in reality of what w^e call space in " perception." The con- 
tinuum representing the condition for giving any plasticity at all to 
appearances and not in any way determined by the limitations of the 
physical object involved is that important fact which requires as much 
consideration as the distortion of localization. We do not absolutely 
require that we should see the spatial quale in the object, but that we 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 329 

should see the object in the spatial quale. This is in fact the way in 
which Kant conceived the relation even when he says that space was 
purely subjective. He had returned to the physicist's point of view in 
conceiving space when the Leibnitzians had departed from it. The 
physicists had always conceived space as the condition of the existence 
of matter, but Spinoza conceived it as a property of matter inhering in 
it and though Leibnitz did not exactly take this view, at least in so far 
as form of statement is concerned, he did not treat it as a condition in 
which matter existed or as necessary for that existence. The Spino- 
zists could say that space existed in matter and so that matter condi- 
tioned the existence of space. The Leibnitzians might say that matter 
existed in space, but they had to maintain that it was not an inherent 
property of matter and in no respect conditioned its existence or 
action. Kant departed from Spinoza when he denied that space was 
a property of matter and he departed from both Spinoza and Leibnitz 
^vhen he maintained that it was a prior condition of the existence of 
matter. But Kant did this with a distinction which we must not for- 
get. He held that space was not a property of matter " in itself " 
(^materia no2ime?io?i) ^ while he did not deny that it was a property 
of matter as a "phenomenon" {materia pheno7nenon) . But he 
ought to have seen that " phenomena " could have no properties what- 
ever, in any sense of the term " property " as he used it to describe 
the power of matter to affect the subject. For it was through its 
properties that it produced impressions and became known while he 
could not consistently say that it was " phenomena " that affected the 
subject, since they were the effects, the things " known," the subjec- 
tive reactions of the mind elicited in response to the activities, proper- 
ties (Krafte) of matter external to us and in itself not transmissible 
to the subject. But if "phenomena" can have no pi'operties what- 
ever in any proper sense of the term affecting the theory of knowledge 
as Kant implicitly conditions it, we should have to exclude the sensory 
qualities as such, even as correlate attributes or actions, from ex- 
ternal matter, and we should have reality wholly propertyless, a con- 
clusion which would result in solipsism for psychology and virtual 
nihilism for matter. But if we are to suppose that space is a property 
of " phenomena " and that it sustains the same relation to them as it sus- 
tains to matter in the conception of physics generally, and if at the same 
time we assume that " phenomena " or sensible qualities imply proper- 
ties in reality affecting the subject, whether they are as they seem or not, 
it would seem very anomalous that this which has no objective refer- 
ence should yet condition the existence of that which has such a refer- 



330 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

encc ! Kant ought to have avoided the conception of conditioning " phe- 
nomena " by sjDace intuition and so not to have imported into the mental 
the analogies of the physical unless he meant to carry them out to the full 
extent. If he was going to exclude space from objective reality in 
some sense he should also have excluded its conditioning relation to 
" phenomena" and to have treated space merely as a synthetic accom- 
paniment of sensory "phenomena" and no more necessary to them 
than to reality. But having accepted j^hysical analogies for expressing 
the relation of space to "phenomena" in order to set aside the 
SjDinozistic and Leibnitzian conceptions, that is, by saying that "phe- 
nomena " are in space instead of saying that space is in " phenomena," 
and then giving " phenomena " an objective reference when their con- 
dition, which is purely subjective by assumption, ought not to admit 
their objective reference, he ought to have seen that it would be no 
violation of philosophic principle to admit a relation for reality w^hich 
might go by the name of objective "space" as a condition of our 
being affected at all by this reality. That is, reality may exist in the 
same relation to objective " space " that " phenomena " sustain to sub- 
jective " space," and it should do this if space is a condition of " phe- 
nomena " instead of a mere synthetic associate of them, to say nothing 
of the inconsistency of admitting that space can be a property of " phe- 
nomena" while "phenomena" are conditioned by it, that is, seen in 
it! A mental process which can treat space as a condition of " phe- 
nomena" ; which can conceive it at the same time as a property of 
"phenomena"; wdiich denies it is a property of external realitv, and 
which gives a constructive form to " phenomena" having an objective 
reference while it itself has no such reference, though obliged to accept 
variations in sensory data not consistent with the constructive fixity 
which space should have in the theory, is certainly very anomalous. 

But the facts of binocular vision seem to indicate that there is no 
reason for supposing what Kant assumes, namely, that space quality 
is a condition of " phenomena," as the third dimension is not apparent 
in the sensation with which it becomes associated. That is, so far 
from having a spatial quale of the third dimension in it, this quale is 
excluded from it, and hence it would appear that the very condition of 
treating space as subjective would be its exclusion alike from the 
"phenomenon" and the reality and so its exclusion from the con- 
ditions of sensation. But what Kant sees is the fact that space extends 
beyond the sensible boundaries of realitv and is not implicated in the 
limitations of realitv's causalitv, and hence, supposing that space 
"perception" is not elicited by the causal action of an objective cor- 



PERCEPTIOJSr OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 331 

relate to matter and its properties, he assumes that it has no such real- 
ity external to the mind as the variations of sensation seem to suggest. 
But ^vhen we come to the fact that objective " space," if " perceptible," 
at all, must be "perceived," independently of the objects which it 
incloses and which cannot, on the Kantian theory, determine its whole 
meaning ; when the binocular phenomena which seem to represent it 
as neither " in " the sensation nor " in " the object, are implicated in 
the phenomena of localization and possibly not properly or wholly the 
"perception" of spatial qualia per se; when we consider that there 
is no excuse for the variations of spatial qualia except for certain 
peculiar relations of the object apart from its causal action ; and when 
the doctrine of evolutionary adjustment is applied, as Kant could not 
admit this from his Leibnitz ian affiliations, environment and its in- 
fluence not being admissible in this philosophy as either affecting the 
nature of reality or the origin of ' ' knowledge " — when these are con- 
sidered, we may discover that there is nothing to oppose, but every- 
thing to favor, even when it does not prove, the position that in some 
sense space is objective, though it be much in the same sense in which 
color, sound, etc., are objective. Then remembering that we may not 
be required to apply either the principle of identity or that of causality 
in determining all objective reality, but a principle that either accompa- 
nies or lies at the basis of both of them, namely, the principle of dif- 
ference, if only that of numerical or mathematical difference, mimero 
alia^ we may find that more fundamental function of consciousness by 
which it transcends itself in its judgments of reality. That is, the very 
function which determines when objective causality shall be discrimi- 
nated from subjective causality, sensations and their objective import 
from internal states and their limitation to the subject, must involve 
more than abstract causation, and in making this discrimination, while it 
conceives time and space as enveloping " phenomena" and extending 
beyond them, it will have no reason for denying solipsism except the 
conception of the spatial exclusion {auseiiiander') of the object from 
the subject, which Is all that space need imply in its objective aspects. 
Consider, then, that the facts of binocular vision, like those of smell 
and perhaps other sensory " experiences," may show that space intui- 
tions do not condition " phenomena" and that we may perhaps " per- 
ceive" what Is not in "phenomena" or any part of their content as 
sensation ; that space " perception " Is a synthetic function accompany- 
ing and not conditioning sensation ; that the variations of spatial qualia 
have no definite correlation with certain qualitative and quantitative 
variations in sensation ; and that the law of adjustment involves the 



332 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

conception of objectivity distinct from, even though related to causality, 
w^e may have good reasons for assigning spatial qualia some form of 
objectivity or meaning and reference to it, though we may concede that 
objective "space" is not causally related directly to "perception" and 
though we do not interpret the " percept " by the principle of identitv. 
This will depend upon the question whether we limit the judgment of 
reality to the application of causation to sensation not containing spatial 
qualia. But if we can " perceive " spatial qualia not in sensation and not 
caused either by the sensation or the object there is nothing to interfere 
with the " perception " of space in the object without a corresponding 
causal agency, especially when taking account of the principle of 
adjustment to environment in the process of evolution which intends 
that the functions of the subject shall have a meaning for reality even 
though that meaning involves the assumption of a difference in kind. 

In conclusion, however, two things are clear. The first is that the 
"perceptive" act transcends sensation, that is, "knows" more than 
the "impression" or w^hat is usually called "experience." The 
idealistic formula can be accepted only with a qualification, and this is 
that "knowledge" involves or implies more than what is "in" the 
sensation, not being limited in any such way as Kant asserted, except 
in a formal manner. The second fact is that objectivity is in some 
form a necessary postvilate . of rational thinking, whether it be the 
result of Judgment or " Intuition ■' or the combination of both. Objec- 
tivity may be given in the application of the principle of causality, as 
we have already seen, but it would not assume a spatial form. Space 
"perception" simply gives it definiteness and meaning, and more 
especially the individuality which is necessary in a cosmos of inde- 
pendent centers of reference. While space is not constituted by points, 
the mutual exclusiveness and coexistence of points or positions in 
space are the best representation of what space means for us in the 
determination of externality, as this is the way we think of objectivity 
for objects in relation to each other. Space thus gives definiteness to 
the causal judgment and completes the notion of externality. But in 
both the cognitive judgment and in the " perceptive" act there is some 
sort of transcending of consciousness in the belief or assertion of 
reality that is not " in " the mind. 

In this conclusion, however, I do not find it necessary to maintain 
that the object "is" what it "appears" to be. The presentative 
nature of "known" things or objectivity is not necessary to the 
"knowledge" of them. No doubt "common sense" does just as 
Kant asserts, namelv, takes the " appearance " for the " reality " with- 



PERCEPTION OF SPACE AND OBJECTIVITY. 333 

out any reflection as to what "appearance" is. It is not necessary, 
however, to sustain this naive realism as a condition of asserting 
objective reality. I am quite willing to concede the idealistic conten- 
tion that we "•know" things only according to the way we react on 
their action upon us. Whether they reveal their "nature" in our 
sensory " percepts" of them is immaterial to the problem of " knowl- 
edge." This may mean in the last analysis, as I have already indicated, 
that all that we " know" of reality is what it does., and that what it 
"/5" is what it does. We do not require to "know" more. The 
desire to " know " what it "is " in any other sense is born of the indo- 
lent disposition to draw deductive inferences regarding the future 
instead of studying nature inductively. Besides the non-presentative 
nature of things, possibly necessary for preserving the individuality of 
themselves and that of the subject affected, may require also that we 
should " know " them only by what they " do " rather than by what 
they " are." But however this may be, objectivity of some sort is all 
that is needed to make thought rational and we do not require for the 
theory of "knowledge" in its primary stage that this objectivity be 
more than a center of reference for "phenomena" that we cannot 
explain by the spontaneous action of ourselves. We can name it 
according to the' uniform way in which it acts. If it appears as the 
nucleus of properties given in sensation and exhibiting no evidence of 
an accompaniment of intelligence we may call it " matter." If there 
be reason to suppose that one of these realities shows traces of conscious- 
ness and the other does not, we may call the former "spirit." We 
may have to distinguish the two only as we distinguish different kinds of 
" matter " and thus wait for evidence of their ultimate reduction to the 
same kind of reality. But the theory of "knowledge" in its primary 
issue does not require us to settle this question, if it ever requires it at 
all. It is the metaphysical task to undertake the definition and investi- 
gation of the nature of objective reality and its relation in kind to con- 
sciousness. What I have ^vanted to show in the discussion of "per- 
ception " is that the very nature of the cognitive consciousness is to 
" know" more than itself, even though the object " known" have no 
resemblance to the subject or act of " knowledge." This is making 
" knowledge" a process transcending itself, in the proper sense of the 
term, and vindicates realism to the extent of justifying the habit of 
reckoning with the objective in ' ' knowledge " and action quite as 
much as with the idealistic view of the subjective. Whether that objec- 
tive shall have anything spiritual in it will depend on what it does and 
what we can discover scientifically in regard to the nature of that action. 



CHAPTER IX. 
THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 

The classification of the problems of science and philosophy 
showed that the determination of the nature of time and sjoace was a 
sort of propaedeutic to the metaphysics of other reality, but not for the 
same reason that this conception of the case was maintained by Kant. 
The reason advanced here is that which grows out of the acceptance 
of the Comtean principle in the determination of the serial relation be- 
tween various sciences. We found that this placed ^Mathematics as 
necessary for the investigation of later problems in ph\sics and chem- 
istry, etc. Now the determination of the nature of space and time in 
the aetiological problems of reflection has a similar function to perform 
in that field. If we wish to so express this function as to imply that 
our system of metaphysics will be determined by our views of space 
and time I have no objection, as this is perhaps true in a measure at 
least. But this will not be true, if it is to mean that we cannot engage 
in metaphysical reflection until the problems of space and time have 
been fully solved. Metaphysical reflection is not wholly dependent 
upon the processes that make the nature of space and time known to 
us, but involve the application of other categories as well, and their 
work is only supplemented and enlarged bv our knowledge of the na- 
ture of space and time, not wholly conditioned by it. Hence I here 
treat Kant's real or apparent assumptions in the matter as onlv partlv 
true, and place investigations into the nature of space and time as 
prior to the metaphysics of reality mainly because thev are simpler in 
their contents and condition them onlv in the sense that thev determine 
certain aspects of them, not their whole character. 

In the analysis of metaphysical problems Hylology appears as the 
science of the existence and nature of Matter, or the metaphysics of 
nature. Now to deal with this as such a scheme would imply would 
require the examination of investigations and discussions which I must 
leave to those whose special work it has been to treat the subject 
exhaustively. I can merely outline the main conceptions Iving at the 
basis of such an endeavor. It is the business of the metaphysical side 
of Physics and Chemistry to deal fullv with the problem of matter. I 
shall take it up here only as it is and has been related to the historical 

334 




THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 335 

discussions of philosophers whose specialty has not been physical 
science, but reflective analysis of conceptions. We are here less con- 
cerned, therefore, with the problems of matter as the physicist has to 
deal with them than as the philosopher, so-called, has to deal with 
them, and his problem is to see how far matter can be used to explain 
the world questions, not merely to explain the phenomena of physical 
science as it is usually conceived. Consequently I have not to examine 
here all the subordinate problems of the physical sciences, but that 
part of their field which is related to cosmic questions and the question 
whether matter can adequately explain all phenomena whatsoever. 

In defining exactly the field which I mean here to traverse I shall 
have recourse to the analysis of the theories of knowledge and reality 
(p. 72). At the close of that analysis I called attention to the fact 
that theories which were excluded from each other in that system by 
the strict application of the logical principles of division had been 
closely associated with each other, or even identical in the history of 
speculative thought. I have to make some note of that fact, though 
the classification was intended to define the proper territory for the 
appropriate theories. That classification made Realism and Idealism 
exclusively epistemological doctrines and in no respect metaphysical, 

t ip noumenological theories. I mean to insist that in any true sys- 

[1 oPphilosophy this must be maintained and that there is no direct 
!ind deductive highway from episteinology to metaphysics. But how- 
ever true this may be, it does not forbid or excuse the philosopher from 
discussing points of view under those heads which have been treated 
as metaphysical problems, even though this would be regarded as a 
transgression when the theories were properly defined. Though I 
might consider it proper to exclude Realism and Idealism from meta- 
physical discussion, I cannot exclude discussions which have passed 
under those names. 

The simple reason for refusing to admit Idealism and Realism into 
metaphysical problems is the fact that the former is too equivocal to 
serve for any clear thinking and the latter has never been anything but 
an epistemological theory. Idealism is a term that has done duty for 
opposition to both Realism and Materialism, which have never been 
identified in all their relations, while it has also usually taken a monistic 
view of the world when Materialism has variously been monistic and 
pluralistic. This fact alone absolutely disqualifies Idealism for service 
tmless it is strictly limited to a definite and unambiguous problem, to 
say nothing of the consequence of the distinction which this work 
draws between epistemological and metaphysical problems. Exclud- 



33^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ing Realism and Idealism from a j^l'icc in the right conception of 
metaphysical issues and as wholly disqualified, with the methods 
usually employed in their name, to pronounce upon the questions 
which we have to discuss in cetiological and ontological problems, we 
are left with Materialism and Spiritualism as the two antagonistic doc- 
trines which must come under consideration. But there are equivo- 
cations here also. The tabular analysis shows that the theories of 
reality have been divided into the quantitative and qualitative, the former 
being further subdivided into monistic and the pluralistic, and the lat- 
ter into materialistic and spiritualistic. But as a matter of fact, in the 
history of philosophic reflection the exclusion does not take place in 
this manner. Monistic theor)- has sometimes been materialistic and 
sometimes spiritualistic, and pluralistic theory the same, as the analysis 
shows, or in one form consistent with the admission of a limited field 
for material "phenomena" (Dualism). Consequently we mav sub- 
ordinate quantitative points of view to the qualitative and exhaust the 
possible ways of discussing the phenomena of existence, the material- 
istic and the spiritualistic. Scepticism is not admissible as a positive 
theory of explanation, but only as a method of limiting the assurance 
which convictions may take in regard to one or the other of these 
theories. 

The term Materialism, whatever may be said of the theory, is 
respectable enough not to require any apology for the use of it to 
denominate a metaphysical theory of the world. But to many this will 
not seem to be the case with the term Spiritualism. I admit the 
objections \vhich apply to its use and lament the preconceptions which 
it suggests in this age especially, as not rightly representing the general 
idea which is intended to define its meaning in the problems to be dis- 
cussed here. But in spite of these objections, I think there are reasons 
which justify an attempt either to restore the term to respectable philo- 
sophic visage or to instate it in that, if it is not strictly correct to speak 
of restoring it. There are several adequate reasons for the use of the 
term. I have repudiated Idealism as not qualified to define both an 
epistemological and a metaphysical problem, and the history of its 
actual usage shows that, even when it opposed ^Slaterialisni, it has not 
opposed always the fundamental implication for which ^Materialism 
stood, namely, the denial of immortality. Idealism has usually been 
as silent as scepticism on that question, or as positive against it as any 
dogmatic materialism. Consequently some term is absolvUely necessary 
to express the direct issues which are raised by the doctine of JNIaterial- 
ism in all its relations. Christianity took up and defined a position 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 337 

which is perfectly clear, whether it be correct or not, in regard to this 
issue. It antagonized Materialism, not on any such grounds as the 
epistemological idealist opposes it, but on the ground that it did not 
adequately explain the cosmos and did not perm.it what Christianity 
thought was a fact evidenced by the resurrection, namely, a future life. 
The affirmation and denial of a future life is a clear issue faced and 
discussed by the materialist. The opposing theory must recognize this 
issue, and the term "idealism" does not do this. Now Christianity 
was definitely a spiritualistic theory, and as its interests still define the 
opposition between the theory that explains all phenomena as functions 
of matter, and the theory which maintains that something else than 
matter is required to explain both the cosmic order and the phenomena 
of consciousness, we are fully justified in choosing a term which 
definitely recognizes this issue. Besides, I may also defend myself by 
the usage of Mr. Sully who has restored the term in his Psychology as 
the fitting opposite of Materialism. Kant uses the term " Spiritualism " 
in his argument against Mendelssohn and elsewhere as the proper anti- 
thesis to materialism. Liebmann and Busse also recently use it for the 
same purpose. In fact it is becoming a commonly accepted term among 
many German writers. It concerns the question whether material organ- 
ization can account for the origin and nature of consciousness, and for 
that reason as well as the traditional problem which has defined nearly 
twenty centuries of controversy it is the only proper term to describe 
or imply the opposition to Materialism as a metaphysical theory. The 
issue has been between the doctrine that matter and the laws of its 
action are sufficient to account for all the phenomena of nature includ- 
ing those of consciousness and the doctrine that there is a soul which 
has an " immaterial " nature and which is the subject of mental activities 
or functions precisely in the same way that matter is supposed to be 
the subject of weight, color, density, motion, etc. If this issue had 
been settled both terms might be confined to a historical question, but 
it has not been settled and hence metaphvsics has still to face the prob- 
lem, whatever else it may be assumed to include. Hence, in spite of 
associations which the last twenty years have created and which ought 
never to have determined the essential import of the term, I decide for 
the reason above given to employ the term Spiritualism to denote the 
proper metaphysical opposition to what is expressed in the term 
Materialism. 

The antithesis ^vhich has prevailed since Berkeley and Kant has 
been that between Idealism and Materialism. The controversy which 
has gone on- in terms of this antithesis has nothing to do with that 



33^ l^HE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

which is embodied in the opposition between Materialism and .Spirit- 
uaHsm. The idealists have been quite willing to allow the public to 
believe that it was and is the same, but a very little intelligence and 
honesty will expose this illusion. The animosities which have governed 
the relations between science and religion and the intolerance which 
religion has always shown in regard to freedom of thought have made 
it the interest of the philosopher to appropriate either the language of 
the religious party or an attitude of hostility toward Materialism with- 
out telling clearly what he meant by it. The public is easily duped 
and the philosopher can escape persecution by tactful indulgence in 
the public of its illusions. There are, of course, those who deceive 
themselves in an attempt to mediate between the two parties to the 
controversy and who, in their very desire to get and impart the best of 
human thought and endeavor, may compromise the interests of clear 
thinking by the necessity of yielding something to the intolerance of 
the religious mind. The influence of scientific theories and scepticism 
in displacing various cherished ideas of theology and the rout of medi- 
aeval religion in matters like Ptolemaic astronomv, the doctrine of 
antipodes, Cartesian vortices in the explanation of the motion of 
celestial bodies, special creation as against evolution, and similar prob- 
lems have made it impossible to intelligently allv one's self against 
science and the scientific spirit, while it was equally impossible to 
apologize for the old superstitions and traditions that, somehow or 
other, can survive all defeats and in a large measure, directlv or in- 
directly, influence the policy of education and limit its freedom. It 
has always demanded that the philosopher shall attack ]Materialism and 
it has not always been wise enough to detect the subterfuges by which 
this could be done without betraying any real sympathy with the con- 
ceptions and problems that interest the spiritualist. Ever since Kant 
the philosopher has been a perfect adept in gymnastics of this sort, 
though he is not to blame for the situation which compels him to play 
the role of apparent hypocrisy, and in fact has no sympathv at heart 
with this compromise of his intelligence and honesty. But in the 
effort to preserve the intellectual and social values of a spiritualistic 
philosophy when he could not defend its metaphysics he has been 
obliged to put a new meaning into old phrases in order to postpone the 
day of judgment and to keep intolerance at bay long enough to obtain 
a modus vivendi for more liberal thought. His ethical ideals did not 
differ from those of the pri vailing orthodoxy when it came to the prac- 
tical duties of life and he could preserve and defend these by putting a 
moral under the cover of a metaphysical antithesis, and so the opposi- 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 339 

tion between Materialism and Idealism became a distinction, half psy- 
chological and half ethical, between what may be called Sensationalism 
and Intellectualism. Psychologically he could rail at the derivation of 
" knowledge " from sensation and ethically against hedonism, while 
in metaphysics he could either ignore the theories of physical science 
as not in his province or take cover in the wonderful truth that we can 
only know reality through consciousness, and then escape the other 
half of the problem by converting the terms " soul " and " mind " into 
equivalents for states of consciousness while nothing is said about the 
conversion. The language is familiar but the nature of the content is 
not discovered. The voice is that of Jacob but the hands are those of 
Esau, while poor blind Isaac bestows the blessing on Jacob, and does 
not know that he is eating kid instead of venison. 

I am not here disputing the truth of Idealism, but only its relevancy 
to the problems of metaphysics as expressed in the terms Materialism 
and Spiritualism in the history of philosophy. I am quite willing, so 
far as the discussion at this point is concerned, to admit the entire truth 
of the idealistic view of things. Indeed if I am allowed to define it for 
myself I would say that I accept it as incontrovertible on either the 
solipsistic or non-solipsistic conception of it, but I shovild be under no 
illusions as to its limitations and I should make no profession of its 
solvent qualities. It is very useful as a form of radical scepticism and 
as a methodological instrument for puzzling the uneducated and creat- 
ing trouble in the field of scientific dogmatism, often as na'ive in critical 
matters as a peasant, and it preserves an impulse to respect the higher 
types of consciousness, though only by force of historical association. 
But it does nothing more. It solves absolutely no metaphysical piob- 
lems whatever. On the contrary, unless it adjusts itself to the concep- 
tions of the very science which it assumes to supplant it results in 
doctrines like Hegel's theory of the tides ! What the idealist never 
seems to learn is that a new shibboleth does not escape responsibility 
for all the problems of human reflection. VVe may resolve all things 
into " states of consciousness " or " phenomena " as much as we like, 
or lay as much stress as we please upon the intellectual as distinguished 
from the sensory processes, we do not escape the consideration of all 
the old problems in all their essential characteristics, and the relations 
which were supposed by them to subsist between "phenomena." 
This ought to be apparent in the system of Hegel with its hideous 
paraphernalia of metaphysical language. It is the same and always 
will be the same with any single description of the totality of existence. 
We may take any term we please to represent the fundamental data of 



34° THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

" knowledge " and think that we have put an end to certain philosophic 
theories, but it will not be long until those theories have turned up in 
a new garb. Plato may undertake to refute " materialism " by a doc- 
trine of " ideas" and then discover in another generation that his posi- 
tion is not different from that of Lucretius. We mav rail at " innate 
ideas" and accept "intuitions." We may limit "knowledge" to 
" experience " or " phenomena " and then assert the existence of " a 
priori conceptions " or laws of thought which are not " phenomena " 
or the products of " experience." We may start with sensations as 
our elementary data with the desire to escape metaphysics, and land 
in the systems of Berkeley, Hume or Condillac. We may insistently 
assert that we "know only phenomena" and then proceed to give a 
vast system of philosophy in terms of matter and motion, or a la Hegel 
ring the same changes on " spirit." We may take any term to express 
the nature of our elementary datum, and there will be some Socrates 
about to ask for a definition and explanation, and then we shall either 
have to tear our hair with poor Euthydemus or calmly spin out a 
metaphysics with Plato. We may carefully limit "knowledge" to 
" experience " and exclude it from " things in themselves," in order to 
escape a disagreeable system of metaphysics and then produce a vast 
system of transcendental philosophy which is neither as intelligible as 
"experience" nor as credible as "things in themselves." 

The fundamental conception upon which the idealist bases his view 
of things and from which he would deduce far-reaching results is his 
notion of " phenomena." Ever since Kant, and also assuming that he 
is equally describing the conception of Plato, the idealist insists upon 
defining "phenomena" as "appearances," with or without its natural 
implication of illusion, but certainly v\^ith its implication of subjec- 
tivity, in some sense at least, and its exclusion of objectivity of some 
kind. I must dispute the claim that this gives a complete account of 
either Plato or Kant. Plato did not mean psychological "appear- 
ance" by his " phenomenon." His antithesis was between the trans- 
ient and the permanent : ours between the subjective and the objective, 
both possibly either transient or permanent. Plato's sj-stem of meta- 
physics drew the distinction between the sensible and supersensible 
realities, not between the sensible or natural (physical) and the super- 
physical or supernatural (spiritual). His supersensible realities were 
like the Leibnitzian monads, except that he did not describe them as 
immaterial, and like the Lvicretian atoms, except that he did not 
describe them in terms to suggest sensible qualities. These " ideas," 
"forms," manifested their existence by the manner in which they 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 341 

arranged the elements of the "material" world, and thus represented 
the emergence of the supersensible into the sensible, of the invisible 
into the visible. "Appearance" thus in describing the Platonic con- 
ception does not mean that things must be seen in order to be "phe- 
nomena," but only that they must take a possibly visible form in order 
to be this, and this form meant that they w^ere transient modes, com- 
plex objects subject to dissolution v\^hile the "principle" that ar- 
ranged them remained permanent. The "appearance" v^as the pas- 
sage from the supersensible to the sensible, not from the actually un- 
seen to the actually seen ; from the "potential" to the "actual "in 
the Aristotelian phraseology v\rhich expresses the real conception of 
Plato. In one condition they were supersensible, that is, not possibly 
objects of sensory " experience" or even of any other form of " phe- 
nomenal knowledge." In the " material " condition they had assumed 
a form which made them sensible, that is possible objects of " knowl- 
edge," not necessarily actually present to consciousness. " Phenom- 
enon " then meant the condition in which the process of evolution or 
creation left reality, which was in its nature transcendent, or it de- 
scribed the mode of transition from the supersensible or transphe- 
nomenal condition to that in which it became a possible object of 
*' experience." Consequently it represented the notion of transiency 
as distinct from that of permanence. Subjectivity was no part of his 
real meaning, in any sense of excluding an objective reality causally 
at the basis of the facts. 

The same meaning is characteristic of Kant. He distinctly indi- 
cates that "phenomena" (Erscheinungen) are events or changes 
Veranderungen) , and very frequently he describes them as "objects 
of empirical intuition " and in this way implies that they are mere in- 
ternal states of the mind. It is true that he sometimes speaks of them 
as "mere presentations" (blose Vorstellungen), but in addition to the 
elastic import of " Vorstellung," the subjective import of which 
Vaihinger admits contradicts other definitions of " phenomena " as 
" objects of intuition," we must remember that there is perhaps not a 
single fundamental conception in Kant's system which is not impli- 
cated with various equivocal imports, that enable the reader to put any 
construction he pleases upon his position. It is certain that Kant does 
not say that " phenomena " are merely states of consciousness, a form 
of statement which directly means to exclude the objective from con- 
sideration as a necessary part of " knowledge," while presentation, 
sensation, etc., do not make it clear whether this limitation is implied 
or not, except to those who have definitely indicated this as a part of 



342 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

their definition and conception of the facts. But this point of view 
was not so clear at Kant's time as in ours, even though it may be the 
tendency of his thought to produce it. The tendency is clear in 
Berkeley and Hume, and it was the natural implication of the Kantian 
system. But Kant did not wholly break away from the philosophic 
conceptions of his earlier period and he possibly tried to make the 
term " phenomenon" do service for both the idea of purely subjective 
states and the objective idea of events or change. He is certainly not 
prepared for any solipsistic interpretation of the term, and in his at- 
tempt to refute Idealism he shows this, whether we regard him as con- 
sistent or not in this position. The ambiguity in Kant's conception is 
caused by the fact that he lived in, and in a large measure determined, 
the transition from the Platonic to the modern view of reality. This 
v\ras effected mainly by the Philosophy of Leibnitz which exercised a 
far larger influence on Kant than either he could control or his readers 
can superficially discover. His conception of "phenomena" was 
borrowed partly from the usage of Plato and partly from the in- 
fluence of the Leibnitz ian philosophy on his way of conceiving things. 
Leibnitz had constructed his system with the same motives as Plato, 
namely, to refute " materialism," and to do this he had a system of 
supersensible realities. His monads were spaceless points of force 
and hence could not be objects of sensory "knowledge." Though 
they were supersensible, and even possessed in various degrees super- 
physical properties, they could \vork changes or produce effects, but 
without transmitting them to other monads. Their action was thus 
wholly subjective, but Leibnitz provided machinery to make this con- 
form to the nature of external reality. As the action of each monad 
was the same it "mirrored" or represented in each case the nature 
of objective monads by virtue of the identity of all of them in 
kind. The harmonious action of the system was not accounted for 
as in the mechanical system, namely, by transeunt action, inJJtixns 
physicus, causa matei'ialis^ but by causa occasionalis.^ whatever 
that meant. The point here to be noted is the conception of 
purely subjective action in the explanation of genesis. Now Kant 
returned to the materialistic position in his "receptivity of sense." 
This assumed the influence upon the subject of action external to it. 
The legitimacy of this procedure is not the question, but only the fact. 
Leibnitz could not get beyond the subject in his conception of activity. 
Kant, whether legitimately or not, did get beyond it, and hence he had 
to admit the existence of " phenomena " beside those of the internal 
world, and these were the objects of intuition, something more than 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 343 

internal states or subjective "phenomena." Now as " noumena " 
could not be " known," these being in reality the Leibnitzian monads 
incapable of acting as such on other monads or subjects by any tran- 
seunt action, Kant, pressed, on the one hand, by the impossibility of 
calling the external reality a " nouraenal" fact and, on the other, by th;. 
necessity of supposing this external reality as a condition of making 
sensation and its genesis rational, could only call it a "phenomenon" 
without making it a state of consciousness of the subject, even though 
he also considered consciousness a "phenomenon" of the subject. 
Hence besides states of consciousness he assumed a type of " phenom- 
ena " which were events rather than " appearances," except as modes 
of reality between " noumena " and subjective "phenomena." But 
in spite of this, his Leibnitzian presupposition could not prevent the 
rise of an equivocation in the conception of "phenomena" as purely 
subjective events, consciousness being the assumed prius of what is 
"known." What Kant ought to have made clear was that he was 
dealing with three " worlds" so to speak, the world of " noumena," 
the world of external " phenomena," and the world of internal " phe- 
nomena." The first two of these were conceived somewhat after the 
manner of Plato and Lucretius. Plato and Lucretius had a supersen- 
sible world, the one of " ideas " and the other of " atoms." Both also 
had a sensible world which was a compound, organic complex or union 
of the elementary units of the supersensible world, and was on that 
account transient or " phenomenal," that is perishable. The " noum- 
enal " or supersensible world, "ideas" or "atoms," was not perish- 
able. The antithesis was between the transient and the permanent. 
But Kant had to start with a later and different antithesis, which only 
partly coincided with the old one. This was the antithesis between 
the subjective and the objective, the internal and the external. He had 
two objective worlds, the world of " noumena," or monads, which 
could not act on one another, or transmit their actions (motions) to other 
monads and so could not be " known " through causal influence which 
was the sole condition of sensible "knowledge." But assuming that 
sensory " experience" was occasioned by causal action from without, 
as he distinctly states, Kant had to have an external world beside that 
of " noumena " and also in addition to that of internal " phenomena," 
as the anthropocentric method of investigation since Descartes had 
forced upon thought the antithesis between subject and object. Now 
if Kant had shown that his external world of " phenomena" affecting 
sense sustained the same relation to the " noumenal " world that Plato's 
world of sense sustained to that of "ideas," or Lucretius' world of 



344 ^^^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

comjDounds sustained to that of " atoms," we should understand what 
he might think of a causal activity not directly exjjressing the internal 
action of the monads but yet proceeding from without the subject 
"experiencing" its effects, and we could still have the distinction 
between internal and external " phenomena " without making them all 
alike in any other aspect than their eventual character. But Kant 
never made clear what he meant by his external world, except that he 
called it "phenomenal" which he also called the internal, though he 
regarded the latter as causally related to the former. Consequently 
with the uselessness of his " noumenal " world and the connotation of 
the term "phenomenal" applying alike to the internal and external, 
with a tendency of philosophy to return to the Leibnitz ian notion of 
subjective activity, subsequent conceptions moved in the direction of 
an absolute idealism in which all things were states of consciousness 
and both worlds of Kant's external "phenomena" and the world of 
" noumena, " were abandoned, whilst adoring philosophers trace the 
lineage of idealism to Kant instead of Leibnitz ! Kant would not de- 
cide finally which master he would follow, Leibnitz or Plato, but 
fluctuated between solipsism and dualism in a way that left the inter- 
pretation of his " phenomena " dubious. But it is quite apparent that 
there is as much to say in favor of their being trans-subjective, though 
non-noumenal, as in favor of their subjective nature, with the certi- 
tude that Kant intended, whether consistently or not, to assume an ex- 
ternal world other than mental states which he conceived somewhat 
after the manner of what Hamilton calls " hypothetic realism," though 
he did not conceive it as a product of inference. He was too much 
under the influence of Leibnitz' " intellectual intuition," even after he 
denied it, to take the position that the " knowledge" of external real- 
ity was inferential, and too thoroughly enslaved by the formal func- 
tions of the categories and the subjective nature (not the origin) of 
sensory states to make the cognition of the external world any more 
direct, and hence he left it asserted but not explained, except in so far 
as the equivocal term " phenomenon" described it. 

But grant that one side of Kant's position was the only one, namely 
that which apparently identified "phenomena" with states of con- 
sciousness and that subsequent idealism rightly represented him, would 
we by that resource escape the problem of materialism as it has been 
conceived from time immemorial? Does the statement, or even truth, 
of idealism that all we "know" are states of consciousness put an end 
to explanatory processes and methods of asceitaining or interpreting 
the meaning and implications of "phenomena"? By no means. 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 345 

States of consciousness, even if they are the only events in the world, 
the only world we " know," are likely to call for explanation of some 
kind. They quite as readily start definition and inquiry as any other 
supposed events or facts, and we have only to look at Kant himself to 
see that, even if he did limit " phenomena " to subjective states, he 
accepted the processes of explanation involved in the use of the cate- 
gories and employed all the orthodox language of metaphysics in the 
analysis of causality with the deliberate intention of refuting " em- 
piricism " and the scepticism founded upon it. But conceding that 
any ad hominei7i appeal or argument would be a misconception of 
idealism, there remains the fact that states of consciousness do not ex- 
plain themselves and only elicit investigation instead of preventing it. 
They have at least to be defined. If we define them as "phenomena," 
these having previously been defined as " states of consciousness," we 
commit the circtdus in definiendo which clear and rational thinking 
will not permit, unless we wish to confess defeat, and if we define 
them as events, activities, functions of the subject, we admit into con- 
ception and " knowledge " a fact which is not itself a " phenomenon " 
by using the causal principle, and thus all the old aetiological points of 
view again come into consideration, especially if we admit any distinc- 
tion of kind between one class of mental states and another, such as 
memories and sensations, associations and sensations, or thoughts and 
sensations. If we admit an getiological or noumenological subject 
there is no a priori objection to the possibility of transcending "phe- 
nomena " in the other direction, namely, an external object. It is only 
a question of the way in which we feel obliged to explain the genesis 
of sensation as events whose course v\^e cannot determine wholly at w^ill. 
Anything but circular definition, therefore, only brings back all the 
modes of inquiry and explanation which the idealist tried to put an end 
to by his "all we know^," a mere subterfuge for escaping a problem 
which only reappears like the clown or juggler whom we thought we 
had safely tied and locked in a box. This fact is quite apparent in the 
systems of Fichte, Schelling and Hegel who either dressed up phenom- 
enalism in noumenal terms and passed it off for orthodoxy, or brought 
in at the back door the metaphysics which Kant had put out at the 
fi"ont. 

There is another way of stating the case. Materialism and Spirit- 
ualism endeavor to determine the temporal and causal relations of facts, 
the one limiting the "phenomena" of consciousness to material con- 
nections and the other extending it beyond these. Now there are at 
least two facts which show that Idealism does not escape the necessity 



346 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of discussing the questions involved in that problem, nor when proved 
does it eliminate the materialistic concejDtion of the case, which does 
not depend upon the definition and conception of "matter" formed 
but upon the relation between it, however defined and conceived, and 
the consciousness in question. The idealist will not endure solipsism, 
and consequently he admits that there is something that transcends the 
individual consciousness which asserts or accepts the existence of either 
this trans-subjective impersonal object or of personal consciousness other 
than the one " knowing." Whether he admits more than other social 
units or not, he assumes realities which are in some causal relation to 
his own mental states and the question will be to determine what that 
is which is thus the prius of his own functional action and which may 
determine the value and destiny of his own consciousness. Again, 
when he admits, as Kant does, an external world, whether " phenom- 
enal " or " noumenal," in causal relation to consciousness and condi- 
tioning its occurrences, even if it does not determine from without its 
constitution, he must face the question of its temporal relation to the 
group of " phenomena " with which it is associated, and no amount of 
definition or reiteration of the truism that " all we know is states of 
consciousness " will solve that problem. The silence of the idealist 
upon the questions of God and immortality show this beyond doubt. 
If the existence of God and immortality followed from this admission the 
idealist would be quite ready to admit it, as his interest lies in affirm- 
ing rather than denying these doctrines. But if he limits that temporal 
relation, on the one hand, or admits solipsism, on the other, his silence 
is evidence that he does not accept the existence of God and immor- 
tality, while the public will not permit him to positively deny them. 
The consequence is that we have to discuss Idealism as a problem 
tvithin., not prior to, subsequent not antecedent to, the nature and re- 
lations of consciousness. The real function of Idealism is to introduce 
scepticism and criticism into the naive assumptions of " common 
sense " whether of the scientific or unscientific mind, and not to deduce 
from its postulate about the or do cognitionis any ready-made meta- 
physics which would make this the ordo essendi without further argu- 
ment than the a pi-iori assumption of the very consciousness which has 
to be accounted for. It may say what it pleases about the value and 
teleological meaning of consciousness, but unless it is frankly solipsistic 
and accepts the Leibnitzian statement of its case it must subordinate its 
entire speculations to the conclusions established regarding the causal 
relation of its " phenomena " to the realities which that causal relation 
assumes are the prius of its own existence and certainly its limit, if the 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 347 

Lucretian conception and that of modern science be the standard of 
judgment. 

The actual problems of history that were embodied in the terms 
Materialism and Spiritualism concerned the origin and destiny of 
" phenomena," their causes and end, whether we interpret that "end" 
as a purpose or as a result toward which various movements tended or 
converged. They cannot be evaded by any verbal hocus pocus which 
tries to make a name like Idealism as sacred and inviolable as the 
ancient name of God. Turning up the nose and screaming when some 
one uses the word " materialism " sympathetically will neither elim- 
inate the problem indicated nor justify and elucidate the higgledy pig- 
gledy phrases with which the idealist mystifies science and pacifies 
religion. The problems of causal origin and destiny still thrust them- 
selves forward as the primary considerations in all estimates of value 
and meaning. They began in cosmology and they terminate in it. 
The psychological interpretation of them has been a diversion in every 
sense of the term, and though it determines an important point of view 
for disturbing the lethargy and self-complacency of sensational dogma- 
tism it does not determine the order, grounds, tendencies and causal 
explanation of external nature. This problem of cause and end, origin 
and destiny, astiology and teleology, conditions and meaning, as some 
would call it, of all facts, including the "phenomena" of conscious- 
ness, is not determined by any such antithesis as Sensationalism and 
Intellectualism, or Realism and Idealism, or by exalting the order of 
our "knowledge" as if we were determining thereby the order of 
nature. Sensationalism and Intellectualism represent an ethical and 
psychological distinction of function in regard to values. Realism 
and Idealism represent an epistemological distinction in regard to the 
modes by which objects are " known " and their values determined. 
But neither of these methods predetermine conclusion in the cosmo- 
logical problems of matter and spirit, or the causal agencies of the 
cosmos and the teleological problems of consciousness. Materialism 
and Spiritualism, as I conceive them, represent precisely the antithesis 
which history has determined between the theory which holds that the 
organic world represents the origin and destiny of all "phenomena" 
whatsoever, and the theory which tries to make an exception to this 
origin of the "phenomena" of consciousness. They represent the 
two different ways in which the "phenomena" of nature and con- 
sciousness are explained setiologically and teleologically, the one 
affirming and the other denying transmaterial reality and teleological 
oi'der or meaning. The materialist explains all " phenomena" as the 



34S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

resultant of mechanical action, the composition of the "forces of 
nature." The spiritualist, though he admits the existence of a me- 
chanical order and its forces, maintains that physical ''phenomena" 
do not constitute the whole of "nature," that mental "phenomena" 
are not physical, and that they must have an explanation in something 
not material in its nature. He accounts for the " phenomena" of con- 
sciousness by what he calls the "soul," a reality which is or is sup- 
posed to be immaterial and whose functional activity, however it mav 
be related to matter as an occasional cause of its occurrence, is not 
constituted by material action and in so far independent of it that it 
might continue its action without that occasioning cause. Imitating 
and insisting upon monism, there might be a theory supposing that all 
" phenomena" were spiritual in nature and none in reality material. 
This would be the absolute contradictory of Materialism. But such 
a theory would or might be identical with what is meant by Materialism 
and would leave unsolved the problems which are indicated by the 
antithesis between materialism and spiritualism, as it is not the name 
which determines the issue, but the facts indicated by it. The real 
question is not what we shall call the realities or forces of existence, 
but what are the facts of the case and what things do or how do 
they act. In so far as mere terms are concerned " matter" is as good 
as "spirit" and "spirit" is no better than "matter." We might use 
the term "spirit" and have the facts that are associated with what is 
now called " matter," and the issues \vould remain as they are. The 
real question is to accovmt for certain " phenomena " which we call 
mental and which we find associated with certain other "phenomena" 
which we call physical and which are presumably the resultant of 
composition. Are the latter to be classed with the former in origin and 
kind or not? That is the issue. 

We observe certain events which result from the composition of 
"forces," say the fluidity of water and power to quench fire from the 
composition of oxygen and hydrogen ; the luminosity of fire from the 
union under certain conditions of two gases that are invisible ; the fall 
of an unsupported object vmder the attraction of gravitation ; the 
motion of a ball in response to impact or propulsion. Now it makes 
no difference what we call these gases, " realities," "forces," whether 
" matter" or " spirit." The explanation or meaning of the facts will 
be the same in either case, unless we can prove that there is a radical 
difference between them and the " phenomena " of consciousness and 
insist that " spirit " implies consciousness. But this would leave these 
distinguished "phenomena" still unexplained, because of their as- 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 349 

sumed difference in kind. What really interests us is the fact that the 
observed "phenomena" are actually or apparently the contingent 
effects of a certain combination of what we choose to call "forces," 
realities, atoms, substances, modes of motion, etc. The mere name 
which we give these things whose actions or interactions give rise to 
the "phenomena" in question is of no importance whatever. The 
real questions are whether there are any radical distinctions of kind 
between the "phenomena" within our "knowledge" and what the 
relations of any or all of them to the things named. If they are all 
alike and the resultant of composition or interaction, or if unlike and 
still such resultants, we shall take one view of their nature, relations, 
and destiny ; but whether alike or unlike, if they are not such result- 
ants we will take another view of their character. If " phenomena " 
are the effects of composition, their existence and value depend wholly 
upon this composition and disappear with dissolution. If they are not 
the resultant of this composition their ground and value must be sought 
in some other system. All this Is axiomatic. 

Now materialism has stood for the doctrine that all "phenomena" 
whatsoever are the resultant of composition from elements called mat- 
ter, functions of material compounds, still retaining the term "mat- 
ter " for the compounds as well as for the elements. Whether its rea- 
sons for calling the elements and their organic compounds by the same 
name are good or not makes no difference to the general question. 
The main point is to see that, whatever the nature of the elements, 
facts appear as the resultant of composition that were not existent or 
apparent before. Now spiritualism does not deny, or certainly does 
not need to deny, that this doctrine applies to " forces" called " mat- 
ter," but it denies that consciousness is the resultant of the composition 
of these elements, or that it is a function of " matter" as a compound. 
It seeks to maintain that there is some other reality than mere " mat- 
ter," and that consciousness is a function of this immaterial reality, 
calling It "immaterial" because it reveals none of the ponderable 
qualities of composite " matter," which is all that we sensibly know. 
On this ground, if the evidence of the fact is sufficient, it can suppose 
consciousness to be independent of material composition and so not to 
have Its existence and destiny determined by the accidents of change 
and composition in matter. 

Now It is to be noticed that spiritualism gives a meatiing^ as It Is 
called, to consciousness which the materialistic theory cannot do 
This " meaning" is that it is the activity of another subject than the 
organism, the evidence for this being variously stated in terms of the 



35 O THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

difference between physical and mental " phenomena, " or facts prov- 
ing that this subject exists apart from the body. Whether it is cor- 
rect or not is not the question, but only its conception and the mode 
by which it undertakes to define and prove its claims. The material- 
istic hypothesis can give consciousness no other meaning or perma- 
nence than the organism with which it is actually associated. What- 
ever place is assigned it in the group of "phenomena" connected 
with the body, whether as their " end, " or as means to their activity, 
or as one of a system of reciprocally related facts, it can have no mean- 
ing extending beyond the existence of that of which it is assumed to 
be a " phenomenal " function. Making it the resultant of composition, 
as it does other functions of the organism, digestive, circulative, respira- 
tory, secretive, motor, etc., the materialistic theory must regard it as 
equally transitory. But spiritualism, if it has satisfactory evidence as to 
the facts claimed, has a philosophic basis on behalf of the claim for the 
permanence of consciousness bejond the dissolution of the organism in 
the conception that consciousness is not a function of the body, that is, 
is not a resultant of composition of material elements. If It is not such 
a resultant it cannot be affected by the decomposition of the organism, 
no matter what other account of it may be demanded. What its 
meaning would be in such a view of it would have to be settled by 
other considerations than those of the present physical sciences. This 
again is a truism but requires statement in order to use it as a major 
premise for certain further animadversions. 

Now what I wish to contend for here is that all teleological and 
ethical interpretations of consciousness, as well as all other facts and 
" phenomena," must depend wholly upon the conclusions in regard 
to their causes. That is to say, the teleological view of things is con- 
ditioned and wholly conditioned by the ^etiological. It is not inde- 
pendent of it, as the idealist would have us believe at times. We 
cannot say that, whatever the cause, any given " end" or consequence 
will hold true, because that " end " is determined by the nature of the 
causes that lead to it. If the causes cease acting the effect ceases to 
exist, if the effect is a mere " phenomenon." The purpose, value, and 
persistence of any fact is dependent upon the conditions that deter- 
mine its nature. Functional activity cannot persist beyond the exist- 
ence of the subject of which it is an activity. A subject once formed, 
created, or organized may subsist indefinitely, or even permanently, 
if nothing occurs to disturb its integrity, but if this subject be either 
by accident or by nature a transitorv one, its propertv and functions 
are equally so. 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 35 i 

I have a lighted candle before me. I do not say that I have myself 
lighted it, but that the burning candle in some way is an object of 
consciousness. This bare knowledge may not suggest that the light or 
luminosity is an incident with any less persistence than the materials 
out of which the taper is made. The luminosit}' might seem to be as 
permanent and as essential a property of the taper as the color or hard- 
ness of it, so far as my present consciousness is concerned. But sup- 
pose that the wind blows the flame out and I find myself with the taper 
showing no luminosity but having the same color and resistance as 
before. I have conclusive evidence that the luminosity is not a neces- 
sary accompaniment or consequence of the remaining properties, as 
well as not a part of them, as they appear. I find that in spite of their 
appearance, as before, the light had disappeared as a consequence of 
the causal action of the wind, and will be treated as an incidental con- 
dition or state of the taper, certainly not an effect of what remains to 
consciousness. But now if some one comes along with a burning 
match and relights it the taper shows its luminosity again, and I have 
the same phenomenon as before. But what I chiefly observe in such 
a case is that the flame this time has a beginning in time, just as its 
disappearance by the wind indicated that it had an end. Before this 
disappearance it might not have had a beginning in so far as my " ex- 
perience " was concerned, and after its extinction it inight permanently 
cease to exist. In the former case it might have had an indefinite or 
infinite past existence, and in the latter it might never again have a 
future existence, in spite of its past. Also, in so far as my " experi- 
ence" is concerned, once existing it might have a permanent existence, 
in spite of its actual origin in time, if the law of inertia be true. I can 
tell nothing about one or the other alternative without further investi- 
gation, if at all. Now it is the reappearance of the light that gives me 
proof that the luminosity has a beginning in that particular case, and 
it sviggests at least the suspicion that it had a beginning in the first 
place. But whether it implies this or not is indifferent to the suggestion 
that arises from the perception of its origin in the second instance. 
This origin suggests that there is some other cause than the static 
qualities of color and resistance that have persisted through the 
changes involved in the appearance, disappearance and reappearance 
of the light. We are at once set to work to inquire "what the real 
cause of the light is. This cannot be the lighted match alone, causa 
occasionalis ^ because that has gone out by supposition while the taper 
continues to burn. Hence I seek in some conditions of the material 
taper an explanation of the luminosity. Finally, I discover that the 



35 2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

candle is composed of carbon in a certain form and the air of oxygen, 
and that the union of carbon and oxygen under the proper conditions 
will produce a light. The luminosity is thus explained as an incident 
of composition, a process involving the atomization of the carbon and 
the union with it of the oxygen to form carbonic acid. The light is 
thus found to be a " jDhenomenon," a fact that begins and ends with 
the act of the decomposition of the taper. It continues only so long as 
this process continues. When the organism known as the taper has 
been dissolved, that is, separated into its elements, the "phenom- 
enon" comes to an end. It no more exists. Its destiny is determined 
by the termination of the organism of which it was a function in that 
act of decomposition. It has no other meaning or "end" than that 
which is determined by the nature and destiny of the organism of 
which it is an incident. At the same time the properties of color and 
resistance have also disappeared from all sensible " knowledge," and 
for all that we should know, except for the proof of the indestructi- 
bility of matter in the gravity of the elements, the very substance of 
the taper has also disappeared or been annihilated. Its " phenom- 
enal " modes have certainly been annihilated, never to reappear, 
unless some accident or creative act or "law of nature" may reinstate 
the combination of elements and circumstances that will reproduce the 
" phenomena" that we have been describing. 

We have in this detailed illustration an application, in parvo, of the 
whole materialistic hypothesis as it is conceived and applied to all the 
problems of cosmology in physics, chemistry, astronomy, biology, 
physiology, and psychology. All the "phenomena" of matter are 
treated as resultants of the composition of atoms or elements without 
regard to more than the fact that there are constituent or elementary 
elements of some kind to determine the organizations involved. We 
call them "matter" for certain reasons, whether good or bad it is not 
necessary to decide, though it would not in the least alter the nature 
and estimate of the " phenomena " if we called the elements " spirits." 
The one question to answer is whether the " phenomena " observed are 
modes or functions of the complex wholes so formed. If they are such 
resultants and are not properties or functions of the elements, their 
existence and meaning or "end" are exhausted with that of the 
organism of which they are the contingent effects. 

The important fact to be noticed and emphasized after this elabo- 
rate illustration of the materialistic method is that we decide by it, not 
because it is materialistic, but because of the causal principles in- 
volved, the question of the value and existence of the " phenomena" 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 353 

concerned. This means that the question of value is subordinate to 
that of cause, in so far as the problem of persistence is concerned. The 
illustration shows that it matters not what value we give the light, 
small or great, whether it is the purpose or end of all other functions 
of the organism, or itself subordinate to them, or even subordinate to 
some end outside the taper, or whether the light was intended by 
some outside intelligent cause for an end of the other functions of the 
taper, or for an end outside the candle, — on any supposition, the light 
regarded as a function of chemical composition has no more perma- 
laent existence than the taper or the process of its combustion. We 
may exalt the value of light all we please ; we may regard it as the 
convergent resultant and " end" of any number of either mechanical 
or spiritual "forces" or agencies, conscious or unconscious realities, 
nevertheless, though all things be " for it, " yet the light does not per- 
sist beyond the disappearance of the taper. Whatever " end " the 
light has it must be ivithin the existence of the taper and not without 
\\. as light. The aetiology of the "phenomenon" decides its tele- 
ology. If the taper be imperishable the light will be a permanent real- 
ity or possibility. But depending upon the accidents of composition 
and decomposition, or upon the external creation and dissolution of 
the compound, whether this creation be by an intelligent agent or not, its 
nature and destiny are limited to the origin and end of that body. If 
the " phenomenon " have any value or teleological meaning in com- 
parison with the other incidents really or apparently subordinate to it, 
this must be determined 'withi7t the aetiological conditions that deter- 
mine the existence of the organism, and these whatever their external 
initium may be, accident, internal or external, " law of nature," deus 
ex machina.^ or other cause, are the material coinponents of the organ- 
ism and their interaction. If the light be supposed to have an " end" 
beyond the existence of the candle, this " end" must either be its own 
continuance, which is not shown to be a fact, or some other reality 
to which its own existence is subordinated. The latter alternative 
subjects the value of the " phenomenon" to some other fact than itself 
and contradicts the supposition that the light is the sui^erordinate 
" end " in the case, and forces us to assign whatever teleology it may 
have to the limits of the organism of which it appears as a function. 
This is what materialism means and does. It explains why and how 
the " phenomenon" comes into existence and why and how it cannot 
be supposed to continue beyond the conditions which give rise to it, 
and it is not necessarily concerned with any special view of these con- 
ditions which may have any name we please, though as a fact it has 
23 



354 the: problems of philosophy. 

always specified them in terms of " matter and motion." Its funda- 
mental point is that the world, as sensibly known, is a complex of 
elements with properties that are incidents of this complexity and not 
of the elements, and it can a^opeal to an enormous mass of facts in its 
support. 

But to illustrate the spiritualistic view, let us extend our case. 
Suppose the light which I have observed to actually continue after the 
candle has been dissolved. The situation in this instance would be a 
very different one. The fact would settle beyond all doubt or cavil, if 
the application of causality has any legitimacy at all, that the lumi- 
nosity, whether a "phenomenon" or not, was not a function of the 
body concerned, nor of its combustion. We should have to seek some 
cause or ground for the fact outside the taper. It w^ould not matter 
what that cause was or whether we chose to regard it as material or 
immaterial, it would certainly not be the resultant of the composition 
and decomposition of the candle. Its nature and destiny would be in- 
dependent of that organism, whatever they might be. If we found on 
investigation that the light was the function of another complex and 
decomposable organism we should expect it to have a life or persist- 
ence no longer than this compound. If the complex organism be 
indecomposable, in spite of its organic nature, we might expect the 
" phenomenon," ceteris par Ibtis, to be equally perdurable, potentially 
or actually. But it is usually the assumption, whether valid or not we 
need not determine, that all complex wholes are by nature dissolvable 
and actually decompose in time. Hence if the light actually does sur- 
vive any process of decomposition the most natural supposition would 
be and is that it is the function of a shjiple element. If this ground 
or simple element be indivisible and indestructible we mav expect or 
suppose the continuance of its " phenomena," the indestructibility of 
the "phenomena." The settlement of this question, like all others, 
would be a question of fact. We should have to determine, after the 
dissolution of the taper and the discovered fact that the light still con- 
tinues to exist, whether the cause or subject of the "phenomenon" 
"w^as composite or simple, and if composite whether it was indissolv- 
able or not. If the settlement of such a problem be possible it would 
be the task of science and philosophy to determine it. If it is not pos- 
sible we should have to let it alone. But it may be quite as possible 
as the settlement of the many problems of science which we do solve, 
and it would only devolve upon us to try as we do in the various 
sciences. We should only have to look for the evidence, if any be dis- 
coverable, that the subject of the light was either complex or simple. 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 355 

knowing that as a fact or " phenomenon" it actually survives the dis- 
appearance of the candle, according to our imaginary case. All that 
this survival establishes is the light's independence of the taper, not 
its dependence upon either a simple or complex reality. If the evi- 
dence became accessible that the light was a function of a complex 
whole other than the taper, we should have before us the additional 
problem of its perdurability, unless we had already decided the nature 
of such complexes as transient by nature, in which case the destiny of 
the light would also be decided, as in the assumption of its functional 
relation to the taper in the case where we supposed it to have disap- 
peared with its decomposition. But if evidence were forthcoming 
on investigation that the subject was as simple as an " atom" is sup- 
posed to be indestructible, we should have the problem of its persist- 
ence explained in terms of the assumptions that regulated our inquiries. 
But in any case we should have to look for additional facts to decide 
the matter. But it is noticeable that the solution is independent of the 
way in w^hich we shall speak and think of the elements, though not 
independent of the way in which we shall speak and think of the rela- 
tion between elements and compounds. If the essential attribute of 
" matter" be composition or complexity, then the elements would not 
be " matter." If the light then persisted beyond the existence of the 
candle, it would be an " immaterial " event, not a function of " matter," 
whatever view we might choose to take of it in other respects. But if the 
term " matter" be consistent with ideas of complexity and simplicity, 
divisibility and indivisibility, the persistence of the light beyond the 
organism represented by the taper might still be a " material" event, 
a function of " matter," though organism could no longer be regarded 
as necessary to its occurrence, if the subject of it after the dissolution 
of the taper be a simple element. The whole problem is to show first 
that the light does or does not survive any given set of associated 
" phenomena," and this will settle the causal relation of it to a given 
reality, while its relation to any others will remain to be determined 
equally by the facts and not by the consistency of our hypotheses, just 
as was the case in the first form of our illustration where the light was 
supposed to be perishable with the candle. 

This illustration is an attempt to represent the method by which the 
spiritualistic theory has approached and tried to solve its problems, 
though I have perhaps exaggerated the amount of actual respect which 
it has had for the necessarily inductive nature of its inquiries. It 
claims, however, to have reasons to believe that consciousness is not a 
function of the bodily organism, and on this ground it consistently 



35° THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

asserts the possibility of its continuance beyond the dissolution of that 
organism. Whether it be correct or not is not now the question, but 
only the matter of defining its problem and the method of dealing with 
it. But if it have good reasons for its belief that consciousness is a 
function of some other reality than the brain or organism with which 
it is associated, it is entitled to affirm, not necessarily that it jDersists 
through all time, but that its existence is not wholly conditioned by 
the organism which dissolves to our knowledge, and that it has a 
meaning for an order which has still to be determined after the real or 
supposed disappearance of the body, and this affirmation or hope will 
have the strength and weakness of the evidence, nothing more. What 
the reasons are for supposing that consciousness cannot be a function 
of the material organism is indifferent to the definition of the prob- 
lem and I am not at present concerned with the question of the legiti- 
macy or illegitimacy of those grounds, but only with the conceptions 
which are necessary to make the question a problem at all. We must 
at least suppose, with or without grounds in fact, that consciousness is 
not a function of the body to have even the possibility of believing or 
asserting that it continues independently of it, and to assume a teleo- 
logical import beyond the life of the organism. The reader has onlv 
to substitute the term " consciousness" for " light" with appropriate 
alteration of other terms to carry out the illustrations as the spiritualist 
would apply it to the " soul " in all its details. 

I have now indicated what the issue is between materialism and 
spiritualism as inetaphysical theories and as they have been conceived 
in the traditional problems which constitute the field of philosophical 
reflection. Only as men dared not express their real convictions on 
one side or the other of the issue has discussion in clear terms taken 
place upon it. Idealism and Realism simply abandon it and cover up 
the problem by a wilderness of unintelligible phrases in relation to this 
question, however intelligible they may or may not be in relation to 
the problems within the field of phenomenal facts. But the meta- 
physical problem has been between conceptions that are best denom- 
inated materialistic and spiritualistic, and not "materialistic" and 
idealistic. The question is whether " matter" or " spirit" is the ulti- 
mate background of " phenomena" in the cosmological problem, and 
whether human consciousness, whatever field has to be granted to 
material " phenomena," survives the organism with which it is actually 
associated. That is a problem which philosophy has to face and not 
to evade by the specious use of orthodox language with a heterodox 
content. It is simply the question whether the etiological conditions 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 357 

of cosmic order require " spirit" to account either for its origin or for 
the nature of its " phenomena,''' and wliether the teleological meaning 
of consciousness can extend beyond that of the bodily organism. Let 
me then summarize the results of our reflections in defining the problem 
involved in the controversy betw^een materialism and spiritualism. 

Both theories have to agree that the meaning and value of " phe- 
nomena " are determined by the ^etiological conditions that affect their 
origin or their occurrence and persistence. It matters not whether 
those etiological conditions be transcendental or immanental, a personal 
intelligence creating the world and sustaining it or an impersonal order 
of cosmic "forces," temporarily or eternally in motion, the continu- 
ance and discontinuance of a "phenomenon" is dependent upon the 
continuance and discontinuance of the acting causes, and the value, 
*' end," or meaning of the facts is conditioned accordingly. The only 
•question in any case is. What particular cause is operative in the pro- 
duction of any given set of " phenomena," or is the " phenomenon" 
independent of organization? But in all cases the etiological deter- 
mines the teleological interpretation of the order. 

The question of monism, dualism, and pluralism has a secondary 
place in the solution of the problem. Whether the kind of reality in 
existence is of only one kind or more than one kind, whether it is one 
infinite reality either material or spiritual, 6r two kinds material a7id 
spiritual, or many kinds material or spiritual, is not the primary prob- 
lem, but the nature and perdurability of the "phenomena" which 
interest us as functional activities of this reality. We should have 
to settle the ultimate nature of this* reality in its numerical aspects 
independently of the problem of the nature and persistence of its 
" phenomena." Even on the supposition that all reality is an infinite 
continuum and homogeneous in kind there is the fact that different 
■" phenomenal " modes of its real or supposed activities have relatively 
more or less permanence in comparison with each other and we have 
the problem of the reasons for this difference, and it does not matter 
"whether we speak and think in terms of monadic and atomic realities, 
apparently independent of this one absolute being or not, as appropriate 
centers of reference for them. The reasons for meaning and perdur- 
ability are one thing and the reasons for unity of kind are another, and 
possibly represent a problem whose solution cannot be attempted until 
we know more about the facts of the cosmos than we now do. At least 
it is certain that science went very far in the interpretation of cosmic 
"phenomena" before it obtained any adequate evidence that would 
even suggest a derivation of the elements, some seventy of them, from 



35 S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

a single form of energy. But whether such a conclusion is possible 
or not, it is certainly not the prior question in the determination of the 
meaning and persistence of all " phenomena." 

There is a fact of some importance in the consideration of all theo- 
ries designed to interpret "phenomena" and to render them intelli- 
gible. It is that every theory, scientific or philosophical, has two 
aspects, which I shall call the ex^laftatory and the evidential. To 
be legitimate and acceptable, that is, valid and believable, every theory 
must actually explain the "phenomena" which it endeavors to make 
intelligible, and it must have evidence that the hypothesis is a fact. If a 
theory does nothing more than explain an event it shows nothing more 
than the fact that the "phenomenon" might have come into existence 
in this particular way, not that it actually did so. The explanation alone 
shows what is possible., not what is a fact. To show that it is a fact 
requires evidence. Often enough the explanation and the evidence 
are so closely associated that the discovery of one is accompanied by 
the discovery of the other. But we often enough find ourselves in the 
situation where a possible explanation offers itself while we are want- 
ing in the evidence which would prove our conjecture or possibility 
to be a fact. Hence we must distinguish between the conditions which 
suggest the possible and those which suggest the actual explanation of 
" phenomena." Antiquity specially and philosophers generally have 
paid less attention to the evidential than to the explanatory functions 
of theories. The growth of the demand for evidence has been the 
fruit of scepticism and the application of scientific method which is 
almost entirely the study of evidence to prove hypotheses which were 
admitted only to be possible at the outset, what are called "working 
hypotheses," and so requiring additional evidence over and above what 
suggested them in order to prove that they were true as well as pos- 
sible. But antiquity was satisfied with consistency in the extension of 
hypotheses. It started with observed facts, as all thought must do, 
and was content if its theories explained the " phenomena" which it 
wished to appear intelligible, and did little or nothing to verify its 
assumptions. The evidential problem did not present itself as nearly 
so urgent as the explanatory. The consequence was that it too often 
mistook possibility for fact, especially as the dogmatic spirit prevailed 
over the sceptical. The slightest observations and analogies sufficed 
to start and justify the widest and w^ildest speculations when the evi- 
dential question was not respected. The rise of the latter problem 
into consideration, as well as the rise of inductive methods and experi- 
mentation which were not applied by antiquit}-, has resulted in the 



THEORIES OF METAPHYSICS. 359 

distinction between philosophy and science whicli did not exist for tlie 
Greeks, and hence, with the absence of inductive and experimental 
methods, their reflection took onl}- the form of what we should call 
" philosophy," the speculative explanation of " phenomena " without 
much regard to evidential considerations exemplifying verification. 
But the moment that scientific method came into prominence and be- 
came the prevailing means of discovering, extending and verifying 
truth, " philosophy " was left with the heritage of speculating \\\ pos- 
sibilities., not in proving hypotheses by the investigation of facts. This 
was the condition in which Kant found and left it. Philosophy after 
him could only determine what was a priori possible on such themes 
as God, Freedom and Immortality, problems which it had started out 
to settle and now abandons as insoluble by philosophic methods, while 
science was willing and glad to escape responsibility for either their 
existence or solution. The curious function of "practical reason," 
which gave neither science nor philosophy, to supply a satisfactory 
argument for assertions which neither science nor philosophy could 
justify by arguments of any kind, was a useful sop to appease the 
appetite of Cerberus and allay the hungry instinct for persecution. 
If, therefore, philosophy can not solve the problems assumed to be 
appropriate to its methods and inquiries and amenable to everybody's 
" practical reason," the legitimate power to settle such questions with- 
out an appeal to rational procedure of any kind, we must expect the 
retin'n of dogmatism again on the ruins of rational thinking and the 
natural abandonment of all philosophy as useless. Only science and 
superstition can remain in its place, the one for the study of external 
nature and the other for ignorance in regard to it, while the contempla- 
tively inclined man can only sit as a beggar on the desert waste of his 
own theories and feed those hungry minds who have no sense of 
humor with the husks of the past. But human nature will not regu- 
late its conduct by mere possibilities, especially when the pros and 
cons are equally divided. It will seek for evidence of what is a fact, 
and unless the " possibilities " of philosophy can give some credentials 
for probable or certain reality, they can not be respected, and if they 
do not, they are naturally treated as so much fiction. Consequently 
science takes the place of philosophic reflection, and Hecuba, forlorn 
and desolate on a lonely island, still mourns the loss of her children. 

Ancient thought could speculate, but did less with the evidential 
problem than its theories required. Modern thought respects eviden- 
tial considerations where it is scientific and not philosophic, and eschews 
metaphysical poetizing. In this it proceeds upon safe ground and 



360 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

insists that all assertions shall substantiate their probabilities by facts 
or conformity to facts. This will make it necessary to examine meta- 
physical theories by this criterion, at least to the extent of determining 
their strength, if not their legitimacy. I mean, therefore, to investi- 
gate the controversy between materialism and spiritualism in the light 
of these two tests, not to determine their truth, but their strength as 
theories of existence. They do not have any interest for their mere 
possibility to the modern mind, but for their measure of conformity to 
the facts. Hence I shall examine them in the light of both their ex- 
planatory and evidential claims without pretending to dogmatize upon 
one side or the other, as I am more interested in having their problems 
frankly recognized than to presume to solve them. 



CHAPTER X. 

MATERIALISM. 

I HAVE defined materialism in terms of its relation to spiritualism, 
and so indicated that it undertakes to explain all " phenomena" as re- 
sultants of composition. The elements which enter into this compo- 
sition it calls "matter," as well as the compounds. The questions 
raised by the fact or assumption of change from the elementary to the 
composite condition do not yet come into court, but only the fact that 
its conception of all things involved this transition and the rise of 
"phenomenal" facts as the resultant of it. But materialism has 
taken two general forms. The first I have called pan-materialism, 
and the second psychological materialism. Psychological materialism 
is convertible with the statement that consciousness is a function of the 
brain or animal organism. This definition and type of the general 
theory means to explain the origin and ground of mental " phenom- 
ena " without assuming that the general cosmic problem requires to 
have been solved in order to determine the relation and meaning of 
consciousness. Its truth is supposed to be compatible with the belief 
that there may be other forms of reality in the world besides matter. 
In other words, psychological materialism is conceived as compatible 
with the denial of pan-materialism. It approaches the problem from 
the nari'ower field of human facts than that of cosmic facts on a larger 
scale. Pan-materialism may have two forms, the monistic and the 
pluralistic. The monistic type is best represented historically by the 
systems of Spinoza and the Eleatics, though there are aspects and 
conceptions in these systems which might suggest an injustice In the 
exemplification. The pluralistic type is best represented In the sys- 
tems of Democritus, Epicurus and Lucretius, though there may be 
reasons for dispviting the purity of the materialistic conceptions of 
some of them. But, granting the concessions In each case, they are 
the best concrete examples of the different modes of thought that can 
be selected. The monistic type of the pan-materialistic theory assumes 
one homogeneous substance throughout all space which simply " phe- 
nomenallzes " In the production of the facts as we observe them, and 
no other form of "substance" exists. The pluralistic type of this 
theory assumes an indefinite number of substances which it calls atoms 

36 r 



363 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and accounts for all " phenomena " which are represented in two types 
of transient facts, " substances" that are compounds of these primary 
atoms or elements, and their modal activities or properties. But there 
are several reasons for not discussing each type by itself. In the first 
place, the values of facts depend, as we have seen, upon their aetiology 
and their degree of permanence. In the second place, all theories, 
whether monistic or pluralistic, have to take account of relative differ- 
ences of permanence in " phenomena" without regard to question of 
ultimate causes, monistic or pluralistic. In the third place, both 
monistic and pluralistic theories have taken the same position with 
regard to the meaning and persistence of consciousness, the pantheistic 
view denying personal immortality quite as emphatically as atomic 
materialism. We should only have to change our mode of expression 
slightly in discussing the monistic theories instead of the pluralistic. 
Consequently, since the atomic doctrine of modern science perpetuates 
the historical conception of materialism we may best discuss the nature 
and strength of the materialistic theory in terms that will be more easily 
intelligible to the scientific man. The statement can be modified later 
for the monistic type. 

Materialism developed into fairly definite form in the doctrines of 
Democritus and Epicurus. There were tendencies toward it from the 
time of Thales in the material causes to which philosophers appealed 
for the explanation of the cosmic arrangement about them. But 
materialism did not get clear expression and detailed treatment until 
Epicurus and Lucretius. What distinguishes their doctrine is the 
explicit affirmation of the eternity of matter and motion and the atomic 
nature of matter as a substance in its elementary form. These mav be 
said to be the fundamental assumptions of materialism in all its later 
history. There was one more that was fundamental to the Greek form 
of the doctrine. This was that which regarded the direction of this 
assumed motion. Both Democritus and Epicurus held that this motion 
was downward. Democritus, however, held that there was a differ- 
ence of velocity due to differences of weight, and hence the atoms could 
meet to form aggregates and compound wholes. His system required 
no additional " force" to accomplish union of the atoms. But Epi- 
curus held that the downward motion of all atoms was the same in 
velocity, and introduced the free and spontaneous power of the atoms 
to swerve aside and come into contact with other falling atoms to 
produce the necessary union and composition Avhich constituted the 
nature of the sensible cosmos. In the course of time, owing to the 
contradiction in the system which this assumption of Epicurus involved, 



MA TERIALISM. 363 

this free action of the atoms was dropped out, as also the downward 
motion of the elements, owing to the doctrine of gravitation, leaving 
as the fundamental assumptions of the theory the permanence of mat- 
ter and motion with which to start in the explanation of cosmic 
" phenomena." 

I shall not at present concern myself with the question of the 
legitimacy of this assumption, but with its naturalness to the Greek 
mind and its explanatory power. Whether rightly or wrongly, the 
Greek admitted the eternity of something, though he did not always 
explicitly assume or assert the eternity of motion. But he saw about 
him the fact of change, the fact which had produced the philosophy of 
Heraclitus, and the fact of union or composition of " substances" to 
produce the sensible realities about him, a fact which gave rise to all 
the systems of cosmology. All agreed as to the permanence of " sub- 
stance," whether they took the monistic or pluralistic conception of it, 
but differed in regard to the manner in which cosmic arrangements- 
were effected. Empedocles introduced " love " and " hate," or attrac- 
tion and repulsion; An'^xagoras, "reason"; Aristotle, the "prime 
mover " or God, a deus ex machina^ as causes of motion and change. 
But the materialists assume the equal eternity of motion or change 
with that of " substance " or matter. But how could Democritus and 
Epicurus make this assumption ? The answer is that the Greek mind 
had no conception of the attraction of gravitation and hence it ex- 
plained the motion of falling bodies by their weight, just as the untu- 
tored man does to-day, thus explicitly or implicitly assuming an in- 
ternal "force" instead of the apparently external " force" of gravita- 
tion to initiate movement. If bodies fall because of their weight and 
there is an infinite space in which to exist and fall, they must be eter- 
nally in motion downward. Whether true or false, we thus see that 
the assumption was a natural one for the Greek mind to make and 
was in entire keeping and consistency with the ideas of the time. The 
same assumption also led to the Epicurean doctrine of the spon- 
taneous swerving of the atoms. We see that the supposition that 
bodies moved themselves by their weight involved the idea of self-mo- 
tion or internal action. It was only another application of this idea to 
have the atoms move themselves laterally. The conception w^as famil- 
iar enough in the Greek notion of various moving objects, such as the 
running streams, which came under the general idea of motion by 
weight. All motion -was in fact conceived as self-motion where the 
cause of it from without was not observed. Hence the idea that all 
nature was animated by life. "Living water " came from the self- 



364 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

motion of the water in the rivers and rills. Hence it was quite natu- 
ral for the materialist to assume the possibility of self-motion in the 
atoms, not only downward but also laterally. But, natural as this con- 
ception was to the Greek mind, the doctrines of inertia and gravitation 
eliminated it along with the causal influence of weight from the as- 
sumptions of the materialistic theory and left only the permanence of 
matter and motion as the basal ideas of the doctrine. 

Now there was another set of ideas associated with the theorv which 
it is important to remark. The doctrine assumed both an identity and 
a difference between the facts to be explained and the facts with which 
the explanation was effected. The facts to be explained were the cos- 
mos as sensibly " known," and the facts with which the explanation 
was effected were the atoms or elements out of which the sensible cos- 
mos w^as formed. We may call the two " worlds " the sensible and 
the supersensible facts. I call the atoms a supersensible realitv because, 
however they were described, they were not perceptible to sense ex- 
perience. They were described by qualities which could not be actually 
perceived, but which were the same in ki7id conceptually as some of 
those that were actually perceived, namely, hardness, shape, size, 
weight, etc. Both the sensible and supersensible realities were called 
" matter." The natural reason for this was, of course, the Greek pre- 
disposition to monistic thought even when its philosophy was pluralistic, 
and also its naive view of perception which neither realized the distinc- 
tion between the subjective and the objective governing all modern 
thought, except perhaps in the Sophists, whose point of view was soon 
abandoned, nor assumed any antithesis between sensory and intellectual 
" knowledge" with the tendency to the method of abstraction from the 
sensory in the determination of the nature of things not actually 
sensible. Sense and intellect with them usually gave the same kiJid 
of " knowledge," at least in its essential characteristics, and hence with 
a predisposition to monism as against dualism it was only natural to 
the Greek to apply the same term to the complex and elementarv form 
of " substance" in spite of the sensible form of the one and the suj^er- 
sensible form of the other. The modern theory of gravity and the in- 
destructibility of matter as scientifically proved by means of gravity 
gives scientific justification to the assumption of the identitv between 
the two conditions of this reality, a justification which the Greek could 
not make so clear, though he was probably influenced by it in his 
estimation of the material causes that entered into the formation of 
ordinary compounds. Modern experiment, however, has been able to 
isolate the invisible and supersensible condition of matter, and from the 



MA TERIALISM. 365 

effect which gravity indirectly produces in the sensible world (experi- 
ment of weighing gases after combustion) we infer the identity of the 
supersensible condition with the sensible in respect to its fundamental 
nature. The Greek, however, could not quite so effectively support 
his assumption, and hence had fewer facts and means at his command 
to dispute any attempt to question the right to call his elementary units 
or atoms " matter." But he made the assumption, whether with or 
without good reasons which we are not now investigating, and our prob- 
lem is to see its effect upon the conceptions which governed the expla- 
nation of " phenomena." 

We can understand the real or supposed explanatory power of the 
materialistic theory in antiquity only by observing the relation be- 
tween its assumptions and others associated with the same stage of 
reflection. The modern scientist will remark much that is exceed- 
ingly naive in the materialism of Epicurus and Lucretius and rec- 
ognize certain fundamental weaknesses, but he will also acknowl- 
edge the lineage of his own speculative view of the world. The 
atomic doctrine and the theory of evolution are but extensions and 
improvements of the materialism of the Greeks, which began in naive 
attempts to explain the cosmos. Greek speculations were so satu- 
rated with the assumption that the cosmos was a collective whole or- 
ganized out of elements that it was quite ready for the atomic theory 
when it was proposed, and they had been forced by various influences 
to abandon the older anthropomorphic conceptions of the world's 
evolution or creation and began in the recognition of the "four ele- 
inents " to admit the plurality of the substances which composed the 
world. All substance appeared to the Greeks to be permanent in its 
non-apparent nature at least, and Heraclitus in his conception of per- 
petual flux in the cosmos prepared the way to place the eternity of motion 
alongside that of substance, and there were minds, like that of Plato 
even, who were quite ready to accept this eternity of motion or change, 
provided we could also accept the existence and permanence of the 
substratum of which motion was a mode of action. This was the 
last most important step in the evolution of the idea oifate out of 
mythology into the " law of nature, " a conception which represented 
a fixed order not admitting of any alternative courses in its tendencies 
and effects, and which was extended so much further by making mo- 
tion, or the process of forming collective wholes in nature, as fixed 
as the materials used in the process, and whose changes, collocations, 
and combinations had presumably been regulated by some intelligence 
according to Anaxagoras, Plato, Aristotle and even the Stoics. 



366 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

These could well concede the unchangcability of the materials of the 
cosmos if you -would grant them the causal initiation of motion and 
change in the collocation of the elements. But the materialistic 
theory made motion, and apparently on good grounds, equally fixed 
as the materials involved in cosmic evolution, and as a consequence 
there appeared no reason or occasion for the intervention of super- 
natural forces in the regulation of things. Hence the gods that were al- 
lowed by grace to exist were placed in the intermundia and made to serve 
a function like that of Kant's " Ding an Sich." They could be known 
but they did nothing. They might watch events, but they could not 
make them. Now once having gotten the eternity of motion admitted 
there was a clear field for at least a plausibly mechanical explanation 
of the cosmos. Certain subsidiary assumptions had to be made in ad- 
dition to the two fundamental facts and these subsidiary hypotheses 
were drawn from "empirical" observation, and the persistence of 
matter and motion through all conditions was not a direct object of 
experience, though assumed to be implied by it. The permanence of 
motion was supposed to be a consequence of the fact of weight in the 
elements which existed in empty space. As these were made to fall 
b)y their \veight the problem to be solved by subsidiary hypotheses 
was that of collocation. Weight being the cause of motion in empty 
space, differences of weight would naturally give rise to differences of 
velocity in the falling atoms and thus contact and aggregation might 
follow. This was the view of Democritus, as we have seen. Also 
w^e have seen that Epicurus, in view of the equal velocity of all atoms 
downward, had to provide for free lateral movement in order to 
effect a union. But neither johilosophy looked beyond the fact of 
mechanical aggregation and did not pro\'ide for any persistence even 
temporally of the collocation which they wished to show was possible 
in accordance with " natural laws." The doctrine of chemical affin- 
ity in modern times compensated for this imperfection. Neither did 
the older materialist tell us why the evolution should proceed from 
chaos to order, from separated to collocated conditions. He was con- 
tent to explain, if only plausibly in terms of actual facts, the existing 
cosmic order, without raising questions as to the nature of the pre- 
vious condition, though it is clear that he assumed it to be a chaos, just 
as all philosophers of that time did, whether the assumption were 
warranted or not. It was easy to conceive that collocation could take 
place after the manner supposed, if no questions were asked about 
the reasons for the ^artictilar order observed, and if the problem of 
internal and chemical action were disresrarded. The Greek mind was 



AIA TERIALISM. 367 

satisfied with meclianical collocation for explanation and it remained 
only to explain why a particzilar order was the result of the process. 
This was boldly said to be a mere matter of chance^ a conception that 
was supposed to exclude purpose but to admit necessary causality. 
The theory thus stood for the exclusion of intelligence from the proc- 
ess of cosmic evolution and for its explanation by mechanical forces 
alone. Now mechanical action meant, not necessarily the initiation 
of motion from without, as it does with modern application of ma- 
chinery, but uniform action according to a fixed " law" or set of con- 
ditions which were purposeless and which admitted no freedom, vari- 
ation, or alternatives in the production of cosmic order. Finding 
matter and motion fixed in their nature and amount, according to the 
maxim ex nihilo nihil Jit ^ and the modes of collocation and union de- 
pendent upon actions that no one presumed to regard as intelligently 
directed, the doctrine of mechanical creation or evolution only com- 
bined them in a way to suggest either the superfluousness of the 
supernatural, or the necessity of transferring its functions to condi- 
tions antecedent to those which were supposed to be existing facts and 
the recognizable cause of the " phenomenal " world. But as these 
antecedent conditions were the eternity of matter and motion, and the 
sufficiency of certain "forces," eventually assumed to be internal, to 
account for changes of direction and collocation, no supernatural 
antecedent was necessary, even if supposable as a possible explana- 
tion. Hence the original assumptions excluded the usefulness and 
necessity of intelligence from the cause of " phenomena," whatever 
relation to the order intelligence might be supposed to have when 
granted to exist. The materialist tacitly assumed that purposeful 
action must either be coincident with all motion whatsoever or be 
evidenced in the initiation of some change or modified direction of 
existing movements toward an end or result not naturally indicated in 
the existing order, but as the setiological and teleologlcal order in the 
first instance coincided there was no evidence of the teleologlcal, and 
as there was no external initiation of motion in the system there could, 
on the second alternative, be neither teleologlcal action nor the evi- 
dence of it. Consequently the materialist was satisfied with the asti- 
ological explanation in mechanical terms, that is, in showing how a 
fact came into existence, and could not recognize any purpose involv- 
ing the supposition of an initial cause other than existing motion and 
the "natural" properties of the elements. The crucial weakness of 
the theory was its exclusive application to the problem and explana- 
tion of collocation and not the dissolution of organic compounds, and 



3^6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the admission of " chance" to skir over the ajDpearance of teleological 
order which the assumption of " chance," whatever it meant, ac- 
tually presupposed. 

The materialistic theory has less difficulties for the modern philoso- 
pher than for the ancient because we have assumed or proved the exist- 
ence of "forces" which are supposed to explain what the ancient 
materialists either ignored or did not know. We shall come to these 
when the modern view is more specifically described and defined. But 
it was an attempt to correct the older view which had various weak- 
ness. Among these, the first to be noted has just been mentioned, 
namely, the tendency only to explain the status qico of things, the 
jDresent condition, and not the future order which was a result of a 
dissolution of the present. It had a means to explain how the present 
collocations of matter were effected, but it ignored the explanation of 
change back into the elementary state again, though this was quite as 
much an observed fact as any combination of elements. Ho\v the atoms 
could be separated after they once got together was not indicated. It 
sufficed, the materialist of that time thought, if he could explain how 
elements got together without extraneous and intelligent agency. But, 
though it was just as incumbent to explain the fact of dissolution rather 
than dogmatically state that it was a universal fact, he had no ' ' forces " 
in sight to make it intelligible. 

But a most important weakness of a positive kind in the ancient 
materialism was its theory of the soul, not because it was false, but 
because it was neither consistent wath the mechanical theory nor neces- 
sary to the conclusion which was drawn in regard to its destiny. This 
weakness was not remarked, so far as I know, by ancient philosophers. 
The Epicurean theory of the soul was, not that it was a bodily function 
as it should have been regarded, but that it was a finely organized form 
of matter. To have made the mechanical theory complete it should 
have explained all mental activities and phenomena as functions of the 
collocations of matter represented by the bodily organism. But it con- 
ceived the soul as a material organism other than the body and hence 
mental activities as functions of another subject than the body proper. 
What the reasons were for admitting this view of the case is not a 
matter of importance, but only the fact that the admission was an 
inconsistency in the theory. No doubt the harmony of the supposi- 
tion as a fact with preexisting and existing beliefs availed to conceal 
the superfluousness and contradictory nature of the admission, as it 
was in entire agreement with previous philosophic conceptions of the 
"soul," human or " divine," as a refined form of material reality, but 



MA TERIALISM. 369 

this acceptability did not make it any more compatible with mechanical 
theories intended to subordinate all intelligence to organisms with 
which it was associated and to exclude the possibility of teleological 
action from the cosmos. 

No less striking in the system was the Epicurean denial of the 
immortality of the soul after refusing to treat it as a function or " phe- 
nomenal " activity of the bodily organism. It was quite consistent 
with the prevailing belief, that all collocations of matter were transient 
and perishable, to deny immortality, but it was not necessary to go out 
of the way of the theory to assert the fact. If the soul was a refined 
form of organized matter existing beside and in the body, there is 
nothing in the dissolution of this body to necessitate the disappearance 
or disappearance of the soul from existence. If it had been treated as 
a " phenomenal " resultant of composition or bodily collocations of 
matter, its consequent disappearance at death would be a matter of 
course. But conceived as a form of matter, a substantive collocation 
of fine material elements, there is no inherent reason in this fact why it 
should be dissolved with it, even if it be intrinsically perishable as an 
organism ; especially as Epicurean materialism was not advanced to 
explain dissolution, but the composition of matter. It was the belief 
in the transitory nature of all complex organisms that prompted the 
denial of persistence after death, but there was nothing in the concep- 
tion of the soul's relation to the organism, as it was understood by 
ancient materialism, to necessitate its annihilation at the decomposition 
of the body, whatever might happen to it later owing to other assump- 
tions. Hence Epicurus and Lucretius simply went out of their wa}'^ to 
deny a doctrine which it was irrelevant to deny in a theory explaining 
the origin of things, unless mental functions were assumed to be an 
incident only in the composition explained. Modern thought would 
not suppose that death necessarily ended consciousness if it conceived 
it as the function of another than the bodily organism. It would have 
to suppose a second death or a coincidental death with the bodily 
organism on other grounds than that of bodily death to accomplish 
that end. So evident is this that the materialistic theory of the ancients 
would probably not have created any opposition but for this irrelevant 
denial of a religious belief. It was all the more unnecessary to make 
the denial because the materialist admitted the existence of the gods as 
a concession to religion, though he gave them no duties or privileges 
in the government of the cosmos, and he might have been as prudent 
or concessive in maintaining silence on the destiny of the soul, when 
its disappearance was not necessarily involved in the process dissolving 

24 



370 THE PKOBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the body. He should have specified the cause for the simultaneous 
dissolution of the two realities, the " physical" body and the " soul." 
The point of possible attack on the theory I shall notice again when I 
come to consider the development of s^^iritualism. But the assumption 
that all organisms were transient was so prevalent, so axiomatic as it 
were, that the philosophic defect of the theory was concealed and only 
its attitude against the religious position recognized. Its causal weak- 
ness remained undetected. Hence what consistency it obtained with 
the assumption of the transient nature of all composite organisms it 
lost in its neglect of the principle of causality which was the more 
fundamental of its postulates and which required that the coincidence 
of the soul's disappearance with the body should be explained and not 
merely asserted. 

Another important weakness in the mechanical theory was the 
assumption of free agency in the atoms to swerve laterally from their 
vertical motion in order to effect union with each other. The supposi- 
tion was compatible enough with the idea of internal forces, but it was 
more gratuitous than that of weight to explain downward motion, 
because no sensible facts could be produced to make the hvpothesis 
plausible. It was a pure fabrication to explain the fact of collocation 
which was impossible on the other assumptions of his doctrine. Nor 
could any excuse be sought, as Epicurus did seek it, in the necessitv 
of defending the freedom of the human will, as his doctrine required 
him to explain away that freedom, not assume or defend it. If he was 
to accept the truth of free will, that is, the judgment of the mind as to 
that truth, it might be just as easy to accept its opinions on other funda- 
mental conceptions opposed to his own. It is probable, however, that 
Epicurus and the materialists of the time conceived " freedom " of will 
after the manner of many persons of that age, namely, as implying 
caprice or the capacity to act lawlessly and in irregular unpredictable 
ways. This was consistent with the "chance" which he aeimitted 
into the interpretation of phenomena, but it was incompatible with the 
exclusion of purpose, which it was the object of " chance" to exclude. 
Free will involves purpose, no matter how capricious its action may 
be, so that the materialists of the older type would either have to sur- 
render the free agency of the atoms or so change their Idea of '' chance " 
as to make it as consistent with teleology as they supposed it was with 
causality or aetiology. 

There were several elements of strength In the theory. The first 
of these lay in the appeal to known facts. The " empirical " tendency 
of Aristotle to study the facts of nature in a way quite different from 



A/A TERIALISM. 3 7 1 

Plato resulted in the attempt to find causes and explanations in actual 
" experience " as well as the phenomena to be explained, a procedure 
which was not completely effected by Aristotle, owing to the fact that 
his "prime mover" or God was placed outside the system. But he 
set the example of accepting sense perception as a more reliable source 
of knowledge than Plato, and it was only following his method to look 
for causal principles in " experience." Now the materialists re- 
mained in the system, and in it as sensibly observed, for their causes, 
and could all the more consistently do this, because Greek thought 
generally had this conception of causal action in spite of the appearance 
to the contrary. Even when it accepted panpsychism, creative intelli- 
gence, reason or first causes, these agencies were not only conceived as 
ifnmanent ^ but were also conceived as differing only in degree of fine- 
ness from ordinary reality, not absolutely different in kind, nor trans- 
cetident in existence. Aristotle had thus departed from the prevalent 
conception of causality in Greek speculation when he conceived his 
" prime mover" as outside the system only to start it and then ever 
afterward to merely watch it in contemplative idleness, though he was 
consistent enough with the doctrine of inertia and the assumption that 
change must have a beginning and external cause. But the material- 
ists had not acted on any clear assumption of inertia and hence returned 
to discover their causes in the system of facts and realities whose col- 
locations and changes were to be explained, thus remaining by the 
most natural traditions of Greek philosophic reflection. 

I have not explained why the fundamental assumption that " matter " 
w^as eternal or indestructible w'as a feature of strength to the theory and 
why it was so readily acceptable to Greek thought. The naive con- 
ception of " matter" previous to the period of philosophic reflection 
was that of the sensible w^orld. To this point of view " matter" w^as 
" phenomenal" or transient, perhaps without reference to its explana- 
tion in terms of composition but simply as a fact. But however this 
may have been, it was soon abandoned for the idea of agencies or sub- 
stances that were not "phenomenal" at all, but eternal. This was 
brought about by the further observation that this " phenomenal " 
matter, transient reality, ^vas also composite and that its transiency w^as 
in some way connected with its composite nature. Hence the change 
which demonstrated its transiency and dissolved its complexity re- 
quired some explanation. The appeal flrst made was of course to 
efficient ca vises to explain the collocations and changes, but the Greek 
mind also wanted to know what the " material" causes of sensible 
reality were and these it conceived as some sort of stuff or substance 



3/2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

which might constitute the nature of composite things rather than ex- 
plain how they became composite. Now " material " causes have 
always been associated with the idea of more or less identity between 
antecedent and consequent, so that the most natural assumption for the 
Greek mind to make in proposing the " material " cause of reality was 
to suppose that the essential characteristics of the compounds would be 
found in the elements, and this fact could well be taken as a justifica- 
tion for the extension of the meaning of the term applied to composite 
wholes to that of the elements . In this manner the term ' ' matter " was 
naturally extended from the sensible to the supersensible world of atoms. 
Now while the conception "matter" was before applied exclusively 
to the sensible and " phenomenal " world, it now applied indiffer- 
ently to the transient and permanent reality, both the " phenomenal" 
and the " non-phenomenal" condition of substance, and without any 
consciousness of contradiction or paradox. Becoming applicable to 
the persistent or permanent elements out of which sensible realit}- was 
formed, it denoted a fact which did not require explanation as did the 
sensible " material" world of previous thought, and all that ^vas left 
to account for was the transition from one condition to another, not the 
passage from nothing to reality, as the theory of creative causality 
was afterwards conceived. We shall discover later another and simi- 
lar extension of the meaning of the term "matter" as conceived in 
modern times. But in ancient materialism the inclusion of the idea of 
" matter" in the supersensible availed to evade a problem which is 
most naturally suggested by the distinction between sensible and super- 
sensible reality. This is the question of the right to denominate by 
the same term implying their identity facts whose distinction as sen- 
sible and supersensible implies a difference. They may be partlv 
identical and partly different, or wholly different. They could not be 
wholly identical without being exposed to the accusation that they 
really explained nothing in that they only substituted one " phenom- 
enal " reality as the antecedent of another when it was " phenomenal " 
reality that asked for causal explanation. Hence the choice had to be 
between the two alternatives, partial identity and difference or total 
difference. The former was the position of materialism and the latter 
of spiritualism as developed later. But ancient materialism in taking 
the course which it adopted did not discover clearlv, if at all, the prob- 
lem involved in this extension of the concept " matter" to denote a 
world of reality which it had to distinguish so radicallv from the sen- 
sible world. If it had been content with " phenomenal " causation it 
might have been different, but instead of this it insisted upon the 



MATERIALISM. 373 

supersensible explanation of sensible reality and it was a grave question 
whether it did not either evade an issue or beg the question in calling 
this "non-phenomenal" world "matter." Plato faced this problem 
and had his solution, and it refused to extend the conception of matter 
to include both realities. He retained "matter" for the "phe- 
nomenal " world of change and adopted " ideas " for the supersensible 
world, by which he meant the formative, active, permanent and teleo- 
logical principles determining the sensible cosmic order whose origin, 
meaning and tendencies had to be made intelligible by them. But the 
Epicureans did not see that it was the differences between the sensible 
and supersensible worlds that remained unexplained by their concep- 
tion of the process of evolution, as with all theories that rest wholly 
satisfied with the principle of identity or material causes alone in the 
explanation of things. They had started to explain the world by an 
application of the principle of material causation based upon identity 
in all its details, and were consistent enough both in their admission 
of a soul other than the organism and in the assumption of the persist- 
ence of motion, but they did not see or explain the rise of " phe- 
nomena," functions, modes of activity, properties, etc., in connection 
with organisms or composite wholes, that is, modes which w^ere not 
present in the elements. The principle of identity which lay at the 
basis of their whole causal procedure generally did not account for 
these increments to the totality of existence. These modes were not 
found in the antecedents and must according to the standard of explan- 
ation adopted be independent facts of some kind. Now what were the 
causes of these additional facts ? A step in the direction of the 
admission of efficient in addition to material causes was made in the 
recognition of the initiative agency of free movement laterally in the 
atoms to produce compounds, but we have found this inconsistent with 
the system on other grounds, and without it, or some equivalent 
efficient causal agency the increments cannot be accounted for on the 
assumptions of tlie ancient materialism. 

Ancient materialism did not survive Gr^eco-Roman civilization, 
having been supplanted by the spiritualism of Christianity, until the 
Renaissance and modern science revived it with impi'ovements and 
changes, effected by conceptions and facts of which the Greek knew 
very little and in some cases did not suspect. What is implied by 
Chemistry on the one hand, and the great doctrines of Copernican 
astronomy and Newtonian gravitation, on the other, to say nothing of 
the immense mass of facts which led to and confirmed these hypotheses, 
was not suspected by the Greek. To the ancients " nature " was much 



374 2"//£ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

more mysterious than to the modern scientist and general observer of 
its course. Though we find the consciousness of a fixed order of 
things even in the mythological conceptions belonging to the anthropo- 
morphic period of reflection, namely, the idea of fate^ and that of in- 
variable mechanical " law " in the late period of speculation character- 
ized by the materialists and a substitute for "fate," yet this "law" 
was a very abstract one and not worked out in concrete phenomena by 
the use of " secondary " causes, as modern science does it. The con- 
ception was the vague general one that came from the observation of 
the most general phenomena of nature, and was the reflex of the con- 
sciousness of a power to which all finite things were subordinated, and 
subordinated in a way that made no room for intelligent and moral 
action in the system, which was always conceived by antiquity as 
capricious. But there was mystery enough left in nature after this 
universal "law" was admitted to make room for all sorts of super- 
natural hypotheses, especially that the mode of collocating the falling 
atoms in the Epicurean system appeared too simple and nai've to satisfy 
all questions. Hence in spite of the recognition of universal " law" 
there was room for such hypotheses as Aristotle's doctrine that the 
stars were " divine," the Christian interposition of God to create the 
supersensible realities which might fonn themselves into worlds in 
various ways, the later direct action of God to sustain the celestial 
bodies in their places or their motions, and various types of miracles 
to explain the " phenomena " that were apparent exceptions to this 
universal " law." 

But modern science improved the atomic doctrine so that it could 
really or apparently solve problems which the ancients, if they had 
fully realized them, would have been obliged to abandon as inexplic- 
able by their assumptions. For instance, after admitting that impact 
due to the lateral swerving of the atoms resulted in rebounding, how 
could the ancient materialist either obtain a reunion or assure any fix- 
ture to his collocations. Even his mechanical union could not remain 
with any permanence whatever on his own principles. Hence he 
needed chemical afiinity to both prevent immediate separation after 
swerving had produced contact. Again I have called attention to the 
fact that ancient atomism could not account for the appearance of new 
qualities in the compounds that were not found in the elements by any 
application of the principle of identity, especiallv that it took a mon- 
istic view of the nature of the atoms. These ^vere supposed to be all 
of the same kind and differed only in shape, size, weight, etc., that is 
quantitativel}', not qualitatively. Nothing was said about their pos- 



MA TERIA LISM. 375 

sessing individually all the qualities, as in the Leibnitzian monads, 
which might account for the variable and multiple qualities of sensible 
reality. Anaxagoras solved this question by supposing that the original 
elements, homoiomeris, differed in kind but represented in nature the 
quality which appeared in the compound. That is, the elements car- 
ried over into their compound the qualities which it possessed, so that 
the doctrine of " material" causation was consistently adjusted in his 
system, efficient causality having been invoked in the activity of reason 
disposing the cosmic order of composition or collocation. The homoio- 
meri^ differed in kind in comparison with each other, but not in com- 
parison with their compounds, except as these compounds represented 
different collocations or combinations of elements, and established 
an identity between the elementary and the composite condition of 
" matter," intelligence being the agent of the combination. But the 
Epicureans could not take this view of the case, for the reason that 
they admitted no intelligent disposing agent and there were no differ- 
ences of kind between the atoms, so that the principle of identity em- 
bodied in their " material " causality had a variation before it which it 
could not explain, even though its mechanical conception of efficient 
causality in the lateral swerving of the atoms be admitted either as a 
fact or as sufficient to accovmt for the combination of them. 

But the modern atomic doctrine got rid of all these difficulties 
attending the application of the principle of Identity to two worlds and 
of a superintending or disposing creator by affirming frankly the dif- 
ference in kind of the atoms and the installation of a system of internal 
"forces" which would supplant the necessity of an appeal to external 
agencies like intelligence. The assumptions of qualitative differences 
in the atoms and of internal " forces " v/ere complementary of each 
other, as the modern view of the atomic and supersensible reality was 
a sort of compromise between the conceptions of Anaxagoras and 
Democritus. While it assumes qualitative differences in the elements 
it does not assume numerically as many kinds of elements as the 
Anaxagorean theory has to do, in order to explain all the differences 
in the sensible world, but introduces the conception of internal modifi- 
cations or the evolution of actual qualities from latent or potential 
capacities in the combination of the elements, thvis not making the 
number of elements equal to all the observable qualities of sensible 
reality. On the other hand, while assuming the capacity of modifica- 
tions internally initiated to account for qualitative differences in com- 
pounds that were not found in the elements, this conception was lim- 
ited by the admission of a limited qualitative difference among the 



37^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

atoms. It was possible to have been content with one or the other of 
the assumptions, either the Anaxagorean involving its conception of 
differences equal to those of sensible reality, with internal forces only 
to combine them, or the Democritean involving absolute identity and 
simplicity in the atoms, with internal forces to modify the modes of 
activity represented by the qualitative differences in sensible reality. 
But modern atomism has adopted both hypotheses with limitations and 
qualification, possibly for greater security from difficulties. But what- 
ever the influence that led to it, the assumption is as described. The 
Leibnitzian monads, which are essentially atomic in their nature, were 
a sort of combination of all conceptions inasmuch as each individual 
possessed all the complexity qualitatively that the sensible world pos- 
sesses with only quantitative differences in the qualities possessed as 
compared with other monads, and without any mechanical or chem- 
ical influence upon each other. The general scientific neglect of this 
■conception, however, makes it imnecessary to more than mention it in 
this connection and only to show its logical lineage. The actual de- 
velopment of the materialistic theory, Leibnitz claiming that his was 
not materialistic, w^as in the direction of the assumptions just outlined 
previous to the observations about Leibnitz. But recently, in the 
speculation of Sir Oliver Lodge, Sir William Crookes and others, 
there has been a reversion to the ancient assumption that all the atoms 
were qualitatively alike, with a tendency to believe that even the 
" atoms" are not perfectly simple, but compounds of some still more 
simple and ultimate realities, though they may still surmount the diffi- 
culties of the ancient theory by the supposition of internal " forces," 
or latent capacities for variation of activity, to account for the differ- 
ences of sensible reality. How these assumptions affect their explana- 
tion may be a matter of doubt. With that question I have nothing to 
do at present. I am only indicating in what manner modern atomic 
materialism endeavors to eliminate the difliculties encountered by the 
ancient. The development of the modern doctrine is as follows. 

First we have Copernican astronomy which destroyed the ancient 
conception that the earth was the center of things, or the point toward 
which all things moved, or at least the point from which all things had 
to be explained and estimated. The whole naive sensible idea of the 
imiverse was completely altered by it, forcing speculative thought to 
reconstruct its theories of the formation of the cosmos in many respects. 
Then came Newtonian gravitation which placed in matter, instead 
■of the direct intervention of God, the power to influence the behavior 
of the planetary and celestial system and to balance the motions whose 



MA TERIALISM. '})1'1 

'Conception Copernicus had modified. It was quite natural tliat Newton 
should be attacked for materialism and atheism, as there can be no 
doubt that his use of an attractive ".force," in spite of his actual quali- 
fication of the principle by the statement that it was a mathematical 
representation of the relations rather than an indication of efficient 
causes, suggested an origin in matter instead of outside it of the 
influence that regulated the motions and positions of cosmic bodies. 
Then came the nebular hypotheses of Laplace which did for time in 
the cosmos what Newton had done for space. It used the dissipation 
of heat and attendant or concomitant consequences to explain the 
gradual formation of the present collocations of matter in the universe 
instead of appealing to supernatural action. Finally Darwinian evo- 
lution did for the organic world in time what Laplace had done for the 
inorganic and Newton did for space in both the organic and inorganic. 
Nothing was left for appeal to immaterial "forces" in any of these 
great hypotheses. In addition to these, out of alchemy came Chemistry 
with its doctrine of affinity between atoms to explain their combina- 
tions, and with the assumption that the elements differed qualitatively 
from each other. The conception of internal " forces " became so ex- 
tended as to wholly supplant that of supernatural interference or action 
as conceived by the period intervening between the decay of Graco- 
Roman civilization and the revival of modern learning. The atomic 
doctrine was so conceived as to account for all the real or supposed 
differences and identities between the sensible and supersensible worlds 
and to leave no room for external efficient causes as previously con- 
ceived. 

Ancient materialism, if called upon to account for the sensible dif- 
ferences in things with its principle of identity, " material " causality, 
and only quantitative differences in the atoms and no creative function 
in such eflicient causes as it imagined, would have to say that all quali- 
tative differences were illusions, and not representative of reality. It 
would very well seek justification for this view in the psychology of 
the Sophists who maintained the subjectivity and relativity of all 
sensory "appearances." In this way the supersensible world could 
very well be supposed to retain its identity in the "phenomenal," in 
so far as its real nature was concerned, while the appearance of their 
differences qualitatively would be an illusion. The illusory nature of 
some of the sense judgments was actually admitted by some of the 
materialists. But there was a Nemesis in this concession to what may 
be called the idealistic criteria of truth, not because the subjective point 
•of view in any way displaces the problem of transiency and permanence, 



37S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

but because the original basis of the materialistic judgment was what 
was supposed to take place in the sensible world. The ground for 
the persistence of motion was the sensory observation of what weight 
effected in causing bodies to fall in empty space or a non-resisting 
medium. But we cannot play fast and loose with sense perception, 
accepting it when it favors our assumptions and rejecting it when we 
get into diflficulties with it. We can hardly accept sensory criteria for 
the identities and reject them for the differences in the sensible world. 
Our judgments must be consistent and drawn from the same source. 
But the modern reconstruction of the theory eliminates these difKculties 
partly by the supposition of qualitative differences in the atoms and 
partly by its conception of internal "forces." What the qualitative 
differences might not explain the internal activities might and vice 
vei'sa. On the one hand, the discovery of a limitation in the number 
of elements made it necessary to likewise limit the influence of quali- 
tative differences which did not correspond to the rich variety of 
nature, and on the other the evident limitations to variation and pro- 
duction of Cjualitative differences in the various elements was very well 
complemented by the actual variety of qualitative distinction in the 
atoms, so that between the two assumptions almost any difficulty could 
be surmounted. In addition to this, the subjective point of view was 
admitted to explain certain facts without asserting that they were illu- 
sions, even though the sensory presentation did not "represent" or 
show any features of identity between itself and its cause. The 
principle of efficient causality could be invoked to eliminate the assump- 
tion of illusion while subjectivity could be invoked to suggest the place 
of non-sensory judgment in the determination of the nature of the 
reality which was to be explained by the atomic theory. But even 
with all its advantages in this complex adjustment to the needs of the 
materialistic doctrine, the recognition of the subjective limitation of 
"knowledge" or the " non-representative " nature of sensory judg- 
ments, so to speak, carries with it the suggestion of revolutionary 
methods and postulates. It insinuates that the idealistic method is 
the projDer one, and if we accept the position that idealism is in all its 
aspects opposed to materialism, there is in this admission of the ideal- 
istic postulate the beginning of the end of materialism. But distin- 
guishing, as I do here, between the epistemological question of the 
source of " knowledge," in which the idealist may be correct and the 
metaphysical question of the nature and action of the " real," whatever 
the source of our "knowledge" of it, the materialist may still be con- 
sistent if he abides by the position that intellectual instead of sensory 



MA TERIA L ISM. 379 

processes shall be the determinants of his judgments, and if he main- 
tains that, whatever the nature of any reality assumed the relations 
between it and its "phenomena" remain the same and that it is his 
problem to determine those relations in terms of the conception of 
fixed " law," or uniformities of coexistence and sequence which better 
consist with the fact of observation than ideas that at least apparently 
imply their arbitrary variability. 

But omitting the point of attack by idealism for the present, the 
circumstance to be remarked about the change from the view that all 
qualitative differences in the sensible world were represented in the 
supersensible world only by quantitative differences, to the view that 
there were qualitative differences in the supei^sensible as well as in 
the sensible world, even though the conception of "qualitative" and 
" quantitative" had changed in the meanwhile, was a step in the di- 
rection of abandoning the simplicity of ancient materialism. It sup- 
posed the self-existence of various kinds of matter or reality, which 
nevertheless are so harmoniously adjusted to each other in their rela- 
tions and interactions as to suggest the same questions that are pro- 
posed by the various relations, interactions, and similarities and dif- 
ferences in the sensible world, questions that ought not to be asked of 
a world supposed to be inexplicable in every respect. In ancient ma- 
terialism the only query possible would regard the matter of number, 
that is, why the atoms should be plural at all. The modern query 
would have to concern qualitative differences as well as numerical 
plurality in the ultimate elements of reality. This increases the com- 
plexity of the modern theory. That it proposed a speculative question 
beyond the assumed fact of qualitative differences is shown by the 
circumstances that the atomic elements became subject to classification 
by Mendelejeff with the result that the doctrine of evolution apparently 
became applicable to the very atoms ! Originally the atomic theory 
assumed that the elements were underivable, ultimate and eternal, but 
this explanation of them from some more ultimate and simple form 
of matter subjected the very elements to a derivation which Greek 
materialism intended to stop with the sensible cosmos. This conclu- 
sion is an abandonment of the atomic theorv of matter, and if ma- 
terialism remains at all after it the conception of matter has changed 
to the Spinozistic, and only internal "forces," whatever these mean 
after this change, are left to explain the qualitative differences of 
" matter" as it is sensibly known. 

There is another consideration which gave ancient materialism 
some advantages. Inertia played a very small part in it. The initial 



3 So THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

impulse to the doctrine of falling bodies did not suggest it as a funda- 
mental property of matter, nor \vas it required to keep bodies in 
motion when this was once initiated. Anaxagoras and Aristotle 
assumed it, whether consciously or unconsciously. Otherwise there 
was nothing to justify the supposition of reason or the " jorime mover" 
which was postulated to originate the motion and cosmic order about 
them. But neither they nor the materialists worked out the doctrine 
of inertia explicitly. It would, in fact, most probably have given the 
materialists some trouble, as its primary conception was that of the 
natural and essential inactivity of matter, "being" having always been 
conceived as naturally at rest, and so requiring either external or self- 
activity to start it in motion. To have assumed inertia as the essen- 
tial condition of matter in the former sense and in the sense that all 
" being" was naturally at rest would be, for the materialist suicidal, 
as it was the external supernatural agencies which he wished to banish 
from the government of things. But fortunately he could rely upon 
certain sensible facts to suggest a natural and internal influence to orig- 
inate and continue motion in bodies. This, as we have seen, was 
weight. We shall see again what use the spiritualistic movement 
made of the ancient conception of inertia where it was assumed or 
admitted at all. But it had not always retained the meaning which 
it first had. As I have said above, and repeat for emphasis and 
clearness, it first meant the original and natural inactivity of " being" 
or matter (substance) . There were two alternatives before the mind 
in the explanation of motion or change under this assumption of the 
natural inactivity of matter. The first is self-activity, a conception 
which ultimately took the form of internal "forces" wherever the 
materialistic theory prevailed or influenced the mode of thought. The 
second was external agency, which was the direction taken by Aris- 
totle and Christian spiritualism. This latter position also assumed that 
mattei- was incapable of initiating its own motion, so that the assump- 
tion of inertia implied by it involved two conceptions, the idea of orig- 
inal rest or inactivity and the idea of inability of matter to initiate activity 
or motion of itself or in itself. But the materialist of that time had no 
occasion, as he thought, to take either of these conceptions of the case 
which would force him to accept a supernatural agency to originate 
motion, because he had a perpeUuim mobile in Aveight, which he con- 
ceived as an internal agent. This he did not imagine to have initiated 
motion once for all and then leave it to inertia to explain its continu- 
ance, but he made it a creatio contimia of motion and hence he had 
no use at all for the modern idea of inertia. Why then does modern 



AIA TERIALISM. 3S I 

thought make it so important a property of matter? Why has the 
materiaHst introduced it and retained it in his system? 

The answer to this question is that he has borrowed or stolen it 
from the spiritualistic philosophy which he aimed to refute and does 
not acknowledge its pedigree nor see its contradiction with his own 
system, if interpreted in its old implications. Hence he had to partly 
change its import to make it consist with his assumption of the per- 
petuity of motion and to escape its contradiction with the idea of in- 
ternal " forces." Having abandoned the assumption that rest was the 
original and natural condition of things, since he had in weight a cause 
of perpetual motion, an internal agency, he could introduce the idea of 
inertia into his system only on the condition that he changed its mean- 
ing. This he proceeded to do. He dropped its implication of orig- 
inal rest, as he was compelled to do, and conceived it as the negation 
of causality of any kind, and hence defined it as the incapability of 
producing either motion or rest. This conception leaves open the 
question whether motion or rest is the original condition of " being" 
or matter, and simply implies that either of them will be the perpetual 
condition of reality if it is the original one, unless some cause inter- 
venes to change this condition. Whether this cause shall be internal 
or external, "natural" or "supernatural" is not implied or deter- 
mined. The conception implies only that matter is unable to effect 
any change either of motion or rest. But even this had to be carefully 
limited to consist with the assumption of internal " forces," which was 
made to escape the necessity of admitting the external. Inertia had to 
be limited to the idea of incapacity to alter the condition of motion or 
rest in the subject of it, and not necessarily to deny the power to influ- 
ence change in the condition of objects or other realities than the sub- 
ject of internal " forces." The difficulties involved in this tight-rope 
process of escaping a precipice will be considered again. But it cer- 
tainly offered an advantage to the theory in the chance to assume the 
action of internal causes acting on external objects, while it retained all 
the older implications denying the possibility of self-motion. This, of 
course, involved the distinction between self-motion and self-activity, 
the one being denied and the other affirmed, at least tacitly. The ad- 
vantage of this position to materialism lay in the use of a term which 
denied by implication and historical association any assumption of free 
spontaneous motion laterally or vertically, as it had been granted lat- 
erally by Epicurus, and which at the same time assumed a condition of 
things that justified an appeal to external causality to explain change 
when it was desirable to resort to this, and also in the use of a concep- 



3S2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tion to consist, under proper definition, with internal causes which 
might be assumed at pleasure, provided they did not explain the sub- 
ject's own motion, to escape the resort to anything like supernatural and 
self-initiation of motion in the subject. In other words, the advantage 
lay in the free use of assumptions which were contradictory, in the 
old view, if you could succeed either in concealing the contradiction 
or in producing any real or apparent consistency of the idea of inertia 
with that of internal "forces." This latter alternative was effected 
by permitting the invention of any number of internal " forces," pro- 
vided they had no analogies with intelligent volition which involves 
self-motion, and by limiting the conception of inertia to the inability 
of the subject to move itself or to prevent self-motion, a position which 
left wholly indeterminate the question whether motion or rest was the 
prior natural condition of matter. In other words, the materialist ad- 
mitted just so much of the spiritualist's conception of the problem as 
would enable him to escape the assumption of self-initiative for everv- 
thingand just enough of the materialist's to exclude intelligence from the 
internal " forces " which even the spiritualist was quite ready to grant. 
The logical advantage of this position is apparently invulnerable. As 
all explanation was occupied with change from one condition to another, 
this position enabled the materialist to agree with the spiritualist in 
two assumptions while he confused one with the other. The first was 
the doctrine that all initiation and cessation of motion, or alteration in 
the direction of motion, involved causation outside the subject of the 
motion, and the second was the doctrine that all change of the status 
quo in matter must have a cause. The latter axiom is compatible 
with any cause of "phenomena," internal or external, free or deter- 
mined : the former excludes motion from the category of internal 
causes. The second or general maxim enabled the materialist, if he 
chose or the facts permitted, to assign internal causes for all changes 
but the motion of the subject of it, and the first, limiting inertia, enabled 
him to concede a field for external causality without committing him- 
self to the admission that motion per se was necessarily " phenom- 
enal " or had a beginning, whatever might be thought about alterations 
in its direction or its cessation. This external cause, or cause external 
to the subject of the motion to be explained, by the very nature of the 
case as a consequence of accepting causality of any kind, implies the 
idea of internal causality in the agent initiating the "phenomenon," 
if change as a fact in the cosmos is admitted at all, but with the pro- 
viso that the internal causation for the produced change is not in the 
subject of that change. Now if that cause can be put in other atoms 



MATERIALISM. 383 

than the one affected, or whose motion is to be explained, the limited 
liabilities of inertia are satisfied, while the supernatural is either 
really or apparently eliminated, as we are supposed not to transcend 
"matter" for our necessary causes, the origin of motion being no 
longer implied by the doctrine of inertia and the existence of internal 
causes of some kind in matter being assumed or admitted. In the last 
conception of the problem, therefore, having gotten a conception of 
inertia which did not commit him to any assumption regarding the 
primary condition of matter, whether of motion or rest, and which 
enabled him to use external causality for the explanation of changes in 
the direction of empirically observed motion without going beyond the 
"phenomenal" antecedent before him, this being external, the mate- 
rialist could abandon the regi-essus ad infinitum which " first " causes 
apparently demand, and consistently with the limited liability of inertia 
throw the whole responsibility for the explanation of events of all 
kinds upon the interpretation of internal causes and their mode of in- 
fluencing external objects, and which, though they could not originate 
motion in the svibject of it, might cause it in the object. This brings 
the problem right to the threshold of the controversy between the 
" mechanical" theory of materialism and the philosophy of Leibnitz. 
But of this in its place. The point to be emphasized at present is the 
advantage which materialism had gained by accepting the general idea 
of inertia while modifying it to suit assumptions which the doctrine of 
inertia did not originally make, while it could suborn the idea of in- 
ternal causes under cover of empirical facts which took the problem 
out of the supersensible world and transferred it to the sensible, though 
it seemed still to be discussing a theory of creation that could only begin 
in the supersensible world. 

To look at the historical steps in this development, we have the 
philosophy of Anaxagoras and Aristotle, and at least to some extent 
that of Plato, assuming the inertia of matter in their resort to creative 
or formative intelligence, and the same idea had prevailed in the com- 
mon mind more generally in its religious and mythological views, while 
it was probably tacitly assumed by the materialists in the practical 
affairs of life when they were dealing with "phenomenal matter." 
But in their metaphysics they ignored the assumption, consistently with 
their disrespect for mythological and religious postulates, though they 
did not object to calling the supersensible world " matter" and obtain- 
ing the double advantage, in the explanatory function of their theory, 
of ignoring " common sense" conceptions of inertia when they inter- 
fered with the integrity of their metaphysics and of eliminating the 



3S4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

concejDtion of an immaterial reality by describing the supersensible as 
"matter." But in the attempt to refute materialism in antiquity the 
doctrine of inertia came to the front. It was a strategic point in theism 
to urge the fact of inertia in order to justify the appeal to the vis a 
tergo principle of creative intervention to start the motion or change 
which the philosopher was called upon to explain, and he could use the 
assumed identity between the sensible and supersensible worlds, in their 
essential characteristics, to enforce the possibility or probability of his 
claim. But once assumed as an essential property of " matter," 
"phenomenal" or " noumenal," sensible or supersensible, it created 
at least an apparent difficulty in the materialistic theory w'herever any 
change from the status quo of things required an explanation, unless 
the theory could be modified in some way. As soon, therefore, as the 
doctrine of inertia was made a limited instead of a universal postulate 
to explain change, the need of causes to take the place of what ancient 
materialism had to abandon after Copernican astronomy was adopted 
was supplied by the internal "forces" of chemical affinity and of 
gravitation. For, although the attraction of gravitation assumed that 
matter could not move itself, it was adapted to the new conception of 
inertia in the idea that it could influence the motion or condition of 
other matter. Hence the conceptions of inertia and internal "forces" 
were so adjusted to each other that the origin of motion was not a part 
of the problem and chemical affinity and gravitation were convenient 
substitutes for causes that had once been conceived as related to intelli- 
gent volition. In other words, the adjustment brought materialism, 
reciprocity without freedom and all the advantages that belonged to 
both. The limitation of the area for the application of inertia was 
supplemented by a corresponding extention of the area for internal 
" forces," having no special evidence of being Intelligent or purposive. 
There was an important influence which fortified this tendency and 
wdiich Is seldom remarked by the student of philosophy In Its psycho- 
logical development. It is the influence of experimental science oa 
the ideas which we entertain on the capacities of matter. Antiquity 
simply observed the course of events as they occurred, taking the part of 
mere spectators of the drama of nature, a series of "phenomena" 
which occurred without human intervention. All philosophic reflec- 
tion was contemplative, not experimental. No elaborate attempt was 
made to study nature as It might be modified In its action by the human 
wnll, though men were familiar enough with the common influence of 
human volition on events. But It did not occur to men to take seri- 
ously the point of view wdiich might have suggested itself to them. 



MATERIALISM. 3S5 

especially after the subjective psychology of the Sophists and the 
"idealistic" philosophy of Plato with its anthropocentric point of 
view. Ancient thought, however, was so dominated by the conscious- 
ness of man's subordination to nature that it could not muster up suffi- 
cient courage to defy it, except in ^schylus, and the sense of depend- 
ence was so strong that it trembled at nature and fate instead of trying to 
master them. Consequently between contemplative or introspective 
methods and the consciousness of subjection to nature, it could only 
regard events as the effects either of " nature " or of the gods. Either 
conception encouraged the idea of limitations to the powers of " na- 
ture," and the latter view required no assumption of latent powers in 
matter to account for variation of effects, as these could be attributed 
to the caprices of divine power. Consequently there w^as little to sug- 
gest latent or potential capacities in matter. But men, being mere 
observers of an order that might originate either spontaneously by 
some internal forces or by external creative energy, they divided on 
the question of the nature of that antecedent according to various intel- 
lectual and other interests, some making it intelligence and others 
" force" or inherent properties of matter. If the cosmos showed sat- 
isfactory evidence of purpose in its collocations and organic creations, 
and the conceptions of the untutored are easily satisfied on this ques- 
tion, there would be a tendency to make this cause other than matter. 
If the evidence of purpose be wanting, then the explanation will elim- 
inate intelligent initiation. Now as both the series of events and the 
alternative causes imaginable were objective and independent of human 
action, this, being presumably free, was caused by neither divine nor 
material agency. But natural events being the same to all observers, 
left the choice of cause to prejudice or the amount of intelligence dis- 
played by the observer. But when man began to reflect on the effect 
of his own volitions and to experiment with nature, he found a created 
order of facts initiated by himself and not spontaneously created either 
by "nature" or by " providence." He had to recognize, however, 
the limitations of his own causal power in the determination of events. 
He could not well ascribe the limiting influence directly to divine 
action, as his conception of that influence was not such as to reduce its 
providential plans to the caprices of human volition. He found in his 
experiments that he could not produce gold or silver by wishing them, 
nor by combining elements ad libititm^ but he did discover that he 
could pi'oduce chemical compounds and make collocations of matter 
which did not occur independently of his volitions. They seemed too 
trivial, however, for explanation by so august a reality as God, who 

25 



3S6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

could hardly be supposed to conform at anv time to the %vhims of 
man's fancy, scientific or practical, to institute an order of events 
Avhich man would hardly have supposed to have been in the divine 
plan if his ov\'n experimental volitions, themselves presumablv free, 
had not occurred. The consequence was that it seemed to comport 
more easily with the idea of internal " forces " in matter to account for 
the limitations of experimental effort, and this view was favored by the 
absence of clear evidence for any purposive end in any assumed inter- 
■vention of divine power to affect the results which could not be 
directly traced to human action. Besides there was universal tendency 
to save divine action by supposing that matter had no powers whatever 
to produce effects under the initial agencv of its own " forces." Many, 
on the other hand, assumed limitations to divine power in the nature 
of matter. Hence men were quite ready to admit that the exjDlanation 
of events might divide its causal agencies between God, nature and 
man. But in proportion as the divine intervention was either not sup- 
ported by evidences of its teleology, or was not deemed necessary to 
explain the facts of human experiment, the idea of intei'nal "forces" 
in matter gre^v in strength with a corresponding favor for the mate- 
rialistic theory, and when man himself was conceived as a mechanical 
product of the cosmic order, and hence his action simply a little more 
complex form of mechanical " forces," the materialistic point of view 
became universal, having the simpliclt}- and unity, apparently at least, 
for which the philosopher has always been In search. The concession 
of Internal " forces " for producing effects and the changes which 
human volition could effect in the order of things predisposed specu- 
lative minds to take that course In their explanations of " phenomena" 
which would at least seem to reduce the source of events to as few 
centers as possible, and matter had come in for such a large share of 
the "forces " which affect events that It was an easy step for the mind 
to universalize Its causal agencv, especially as there were difficulties In 
reducing the cosmic order to any clear and evident teleology, even 
within the domain of the sensible world, to say nothing of the agnos- 
ticism necessary with regard to it In the supersensible world. 

A most Important step In the confirmation of the materialistic 
theory was the establishment of the essential Identity between the 
sensible and supersensible realities. It might have been suggested 
by the variable limits of sensible " experience." But the normal 
limits of this were so fixed apparently that no one but the philosopher 
\vould suspect the speculative Importance of the variations actually 
observed, and even this class was either too much addicted to respect 



MATERIALISM. 3S7 

for sense judgments and too much Interested in the acceptance and 
defense of this criterion of "knowledge" to be spontaneously suscep- 
tible of sceptical influences in this direction, or had too few facts to 
make any successful incursions against the conservative ideas of 
" common sense" in its convictions about those limits. Consequently 
it took the help of the microscope and telescope to bring home the 
relativity of sense perception and its variable limits, showing that the 
distinction between the "sensible" and "supersensible" worlds, 
when any question of facts and " experience" was involved, was not 
necessarily qualitative but merely quantitative, if the latter term may 
be employed to expi"ess a condition indicated by the variable limits of 
sense perception. They simply showed that it was merely a ques- 
tion of "sensible" capacity that determined the distinction between 
the various conditions of matter which had been assumed to be radi- 
cal, but which now appears to represent an essential identity in nature 
though not always represented in a sensible effect on " knowledge." 
But it was the experimental proof of the indestructibility of matter 
that operated as the most decisive defence of the application of the 
term "matter" to the sensible and supersensible worlds alike. It 
showed that "matter" may disappear from sensible "experience" 
altogether In its normal forms and yet through its gravity give indi- 
rect testimony to Its continued existence after it has apparently been 
destroyed. Ancient thought was confronted with much more fixed 
limits to sensibility than modern investigation and also had not 
exact means for determining conclusively the survival of material 
substance in all its changes, and hence in these changes certain philos- 
ophers might claim with considerable impunity that matter w^as de- 
structible. But this contention can no longer be made in modern 
times, except for those transcendental conditions which are not acces- 
sible to either observation or experiment, and it is not necessary to 
have an opinion one way or the other on such questions when we 
may insist that we are not dealing with matter beyond its evidential 
" phenomena." All that is meant by the modern doctrine is that in 
both the sensible and supersensible worlds of past philosophic thought 
matter is indestructible and that it shows itself identical in Its essential 
characteristics In both. This Is "empirical" or experimental proof 
of its continuity and persistence in time where ancient thought could 
only arrive at it in an a priori manner, a method which had proved itself 
so precarious that any intellectual interest might appeal to it with im- 
punity until experiment decided whether any of its claims were true 
or not. But the experimental proof of the Indestructibility of matter 



3^S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

established the right of the materialist to assert at least a presumption 
for the eternity of matter. He has definite proof that it is indestruc- 
tible for all human effort and can only speculate for conditions tran- 
scending his powers and amenable to some real or supposed absolute. 
But the important fact to remark is its confirmation of the assumption 
that there is an identity between the various conditions of matter as 
the ancient materialism supposed, and no less instructive is the equally 
established fact that certain modes or functions of matter are transient 
or " phenomenal." The application of this truth to psychological 
events will be made presently, and after w^e have noticed the various 
ways in which this general truth is illustrated in the metamorphoses 
of material substance, involving the appearance and disappearance o£ 
"phenomenal" qualities. One of the best illustrations of this reten- 
tion of identity of material with different qualitative manifestations 
is the fact of allotropism in which the same substance, for example, 
sulphur or carbon, under different conditions will show different 
qualities, the difference being so great that it requires special evidence 
to discover that they are not distinct substances. Compare charcoal 
and the diamond. We might also rank H^O in the same class : for it 
may appear in one condition as invisible vapor, in another as cloud 
or visible vapor, in another as water in a fluid state, both visible atid 
tangible, and finally in a solid state as ice. Only a change of tempera- 
ture is required to effect these qualitative modifications and but for 
special means to determine the fact no one would suspect the Identity 
of the substance in these changes of functional manifestation. A still 
more striking illustration is that of Isomerism. Allotropism shows the 
qualitative alteration of the same element or atom : isomerism a quali- 
tative alteration of the same quantitative combination of elements under 
special conditions, the change of conditions Ipelng so slight in some cases 
that it need be nothing more than the source from wdilch one of the 
elements In the combination Is obtained. We have in this Isomerism 
an example of variation from the general law that Identity of elements- 
In the combination produces Identity of compounds. Experiment, 
therefore, shows that both elements and compounds may exhibit 
qualitative modifications In spite of their identlt}^ In substance when 
the proper causal conditions are supplied. The same general fact Is 
shown on a w^Ide scale In the various conditions of gaseous, liquid 
and solid bodies vinder the appropriate circumstances. 

The deep significance of all this for materialism is not the mere fact 
of such changes In the material world but Its bearing upon the question 
of what is transient and what is permanent. The facts prove a double 



MATERIALISM. 389 

conclusion. The first is the permanence of substance and the second 
is the transiency of certain qualitative manifestations or functional 
activities of either elements or compounds. What is the I'esultant of 
composition is invariably destroyed by decomposition, except weight, 
which is not a resultant of composition, and possibly some ordinarily 
concealed properties. The qualities that appear in composition are 
the resultant of functional activities elicited by the conditions that 
enable the composition to take place, and disappear with the dissolution 
of the organism so effected. The instant bearing of all this upon the 
"phenomena" of consciousness is apparent. If we suppose that con- 
sciousness is an incident in the functional activities of the bodily 
organism which is a compound of many elements we can see that all 
the evidence everywhere else is in favor of its transiency and disap- 
pearance at the dissolution of the body. Such a conception of the 
case had less to support itself in antiquity than at present. There was 
little or no scientific evidence that the supposition of identity between 
the sensible and supersensible worlds was a fact and as little to make 
clear the rich capacity of matter to modify its qualitative activities in 
the various conditions of existence, and hence the ancient philosopher 
could not so easily specify the evidence for a "phenomenon" which 
he wished to use in explanation of mental functions. But the moment 
that investigation revealed the enormous extent to which qualitative 
change in matter is possible in spite of its substantial identity, the fact 
opened the way to sustain some probability that this capacity might 
extend to the explanation of consciousness, and this independently of 
all questions whether mental activities were to be regarded as modes of 
motion or not. It is not necessary to reduce all the qualities of matter 
to modes of motion. There may be any number of its functions that 
are not motion of any kind. Besides even if they must be so reduced 
our knowledge of what consciousness is is so limited that it might be 
anything. But this question aside for the present the important thing 
to be emphasized is the fact that the evidence of qualitative change in 
identical substance is now so extensive and these changes so numerous 
and representative of apparently unlimited capacities that a strong pre- 
sumption is created for any supposition that wishes to make conscious- 
ness a modal function of material organization and dissolvable with it. 
Ancient materialism had less to enforce Its truth or probability. In 
fact its habit was to ignore the evidential question In all but the most 
superficial matters and so to indulge hypotheses where they could be 
made with the most Impunity, and hence to be satisfied with the ImjDOS- 
sibllity of denial by opponents. But this Is no longer the case with 



390 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the modern application of the materialistic theory. Its conquests have 
shown the existence of just the facts to suggest capacities in matter at 
least apparently equal to the production of consciousness, especially 
as there is no evidence whatever outside the alleged " phenomena" of 
psychic research that consciousness has any connections or associations 
independent of the bodily organisms with which we find it, and these 
are admittedly transient or " phenomenal." jVIatter has been proved to 
be capable of much that was never before suspected as possible, and 
the fact puts decided limits to dogmatic opposition to the materialistic 
explanation of consciousness. 

We have found that materialism has finally succeeded in establish- 
ing empirically the assumption with which it started, and this was the 
persistence of matter in all its changes and also the transiency of its 
"phenomenal" modes, when anything interfered to disturb the integ- 
rity of its organic compounds. But there is one more step in its de- 
velopment which really or apparently establishes its second postulate, 
namely, the persistence of motion or the quantity of energy in existence. 
This was effected through the doctrine of the " Conservation of 
Energy." This doctrine gets its clear conception and value scientifi- 
cally and philosophically from the empirical proof which science has 
given it, but it was practically involved in the assumption that the 
essential basis of existence must be eternal. The Greeks said " being" 
was eternal, and when this "being" came to be definitely interpreted 
it turned out to be " matter," though the predicate of perpetuitv had 
to be confined to its supersensible form. Christian thought conceded 
the principle when it assumed the ephemeral or " phenomenal" nature 
of " matter" and affirmed the eternity of God. All agreed that some- 
thing was permanent and eternal, whatever the evidence for the as- 
sumptioti. But they did not all agree that motion was eternal, as we 
have seen in the Aristotelian and other forms of philosophy, especially 
that of Christianity which sought to justify the existence of all trans- 
physical reality by the universality of inertia and the essentially finite 
and temporal character of motion. The materialists, however, assumed 
the coeternity of motion with matter and required only the initiating 
agency of internal " forces" to explain the " phenomena" of change, 
which it confined to the modification of the directio7i of motion and 
the qualitative modification of properties. It remained to discover 
facts that really or apparent!}' support the materialists' conception of 
the persistence of motion or " force," and which added to the explana- 
tory power of the materialistic theory. 

It was Descartes who suggested the modern conception of material- 



MA TERIALISM. 39 1 

ism in its " mechanical" interpretation as implying the translation of 
motion from object to subject. He effected this result in spite of the 
idealistic impulse in his metaphysics on the spiritualistic side. His 
"mechanical" philosophy was held, however, in subordination to his 
spiritualistic theory, whether consistently or not, though he no doubt 
thought it consistent. But his physical speculations are usually ignored 
by all but physicists, because idealism has taught us the bad example 
of ignoring all discussions of physical " phenomena " in any other 
terms than "states of consciousness," and hence succeeds by various 
subreptions in cultivating an opposition which its own reduction of 
facts makes impossible, and, as we shall see later, falls into the same 
pit as the materialism which it affects to despise. Its monism prevents 
its opposition to the essential features of materialism just as much as 
the monism of materialism in its later development prevents its opposi- 
tion to spiritualism or " idealism." But we shall not understand even 
the " idealistic" side of Descartes unless we conceive it in its relation 
to the materialistic. His dualism was not that of realities equally coor- 
dinate with each other, but as fundamentally different in nature while 
the spiritual occupied the priority of value and causal initiation. This 
position enabled Descartes to concede one half the universe of " phe- 
nomenal " reality to materialistic explanation. His conception of it 
gave a technical meaning to the description of modern materialism as 
" mechanical," and which went so far as to wholly transform the defi- 
nition of it in the minds of many philosophers who forget its prior 
historical lineage in the notion of atomic combinations. Descartes 
made a technical denial of the older atomic doctrine but set up a con- 
ception which was in effect a reinstatement of it wath the notion of a 
vacuum omitted. He accepted the doctrine that matter was divisible 
into primary unities, but they were in contact, so that motion could be 
transferred from one to the other and actio in distans was denied. 
Accepting either tacitly or by implication the traditional conception of 
inertia, as implying that all motion must have a primitive initium, he 
derived the primary motion of the physical universe from an act of 
God, but after this he accounted for the occurrence of all material 
"phenomena " by the transmission of this motion fj'om one body to 
another^ and chose mechanical impact and transfer of energy as his 
analogy for the whole process. 

I shall not trace the development of this idea through Descartes' 
successors in any historical way, as various modifications of details 
occurred in men like Gassendi, Hobbes and Huyghens, but shall 
only call attention to the simple mode by which the conception of 



392 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Descartes can be illustrated as well as the process which he was con- 
sidering. For example, a steam engine well illustrates this transmis- 
sion of motion from one point to another in the impulsion which its 
action gives to machinery. Whatever origin we give to the motion 
which the steam engine exhibits the motion which it causes in what 
it impels is a transmission or translation from one point to another 
through bodies or matter in contact. Perhaps a simpler illustration 
would be a series of billiard balls set in motion by the impact of a cue. 
The motion is conceivably transferred from the cue to the first ball 
and from this to the second ball, and so on. All complexitv of 
action in a system of connected machines, consisting of levers, cranks, 
pulleys, etc., only exhibits the variations of direction in this trans- 
mitted motion. This conception of " mechanical " action as the trans- 
mission of energy became the accepted one in all fields of physics 
after Descartes, and when it was discovered that the various " forces," 
or energy defined as the capacity to do work, which was measured in 
terms of motion and mass, were so correlated that none seemed lost 
and none gained in the process of translation, when friction was 
allowed for, as even the simple experiment with elastic balls will 
show, the fact was generalized to express the perszstefzce of '-''force" 
or i7iotio77., and this only extended to motion what was alreadv ad- 
mitted of matter, its indestructibility. Experiments with the various 
" mechanical forces," such as heat, electricity, steam, water power, 
and expansible vapors, with the assumed " convertibilitv" and 
"inconvertibility" of some of them, resulted in the formulation of 
the doctrine of the " conservation of energy," which meant that in 
all its changes and modifications the quantity of "force" or motion 
represented by the total effects was neither increased nor decreased. 
As "force" or "energy" \vas expressed in AIV- it involved the 
idea of motion, and as this ]\IV''^ never exhibited itself sensililv except 
in terms of motion, this reality became the fact conserved. But in 
spite of the fact that the doctrine of the conservation of energy was 
defined as indicating the quantitative identity of motion or "force" in 
all its modifications various circumstances availed to create the impli- 
cation of qualitative identity at the same time. This means that the 
antecedent and consequent conditions of motion or "force" in the 
process of transmission or change ^vere the same in kind, though the 
proper intent of the doctrine was or must be to speak of quantitative 
identity in the various states involved. The inevitable tendency to this 
conception of the case is found in speaking at all of their identity in 
j.inv sense of the term. Besides in the usual measurements of theoreti- 



MA TERIALISM. 393 

cal and practical life we cannot assume or assert any quantitative 
identity without implying the qualitative identity in some respect at 
least. The notion of equality inevitably insinuates itself into compari- 
sons of this kind, and equality must imply qualitative resemblance 
enough to make the comparison of this kind. All mensuration implies 
qualitative identity in some form. Probably the concrete facts which 
led to this conception of the qualitative identity of the terms in the 
series of "mechanical" "phenomena" were ideas most naturally 
formed of the process of transmission of energy or motion in the sim- 
plest cases, chosen for illustration, and of which all complicated 
machinery was but a complex illustration. In the translation of mo- 
tion from one ball to another the theoretical rule is, elasticity being 
sufficient, that the antecedent ball stops and the consequent ball receives 
and continues the motion so received, repeating the process, ceteris 
paribus^ of the first ball, if it comes into contact with a third while It 
is itself in motion. Here, as the motion of each ball is so identical, 
or apparently identical in kind with that of the preceding, incidental 
•effects like sound, etc., being ignored, as in a complete theory they 
should not be, we conceive the effect as identical in kind with the 
cause, as qualitatively identical whatever we think of their quantitative 
relations. When we have generalized the conception of conservation 
and represent these simple cases of its exhibition as qualitatively the 
saine as the more complex illustrations of the " phenomenon," we very 
naturally transfer the conception of the simple case, presumably repre- 
senting the qualitative identity of cause and effect, to the more complex 
instances of the transmission of " force," and come thus to conceive 
the conservation of energy as necessarily implying the qualitative as 
well as the quantitative identity of the cause and the effect. 

Whether this conception of the doctrine of the conservation of 
energy is the correct one or not, or the one always held by scientific 
men, is not the question to be decided, but only the fact that many men 
have actually discussed the doctrine with the implications indicated, 
even when they knew In their clearer moments that the true conception 
of it was very different from that which the language most naturally 
implied. Hence I am concerned with the effect of the assumption, 
whether true or false, of qualitative identity between cause and effect 
upon the conception of the materialistic theory, and with the various 
influences that tended to make the mind conceive and represent the two 
terms as Identical, whatever meaning a more critical and cautious state- 
ment of the doctrine might give it. I have alwavs felt that Grove's 
formulation of the doctrine as the correlation of the physical forces 



394 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

was by far the better expression for the doctrine, as being less calcu- 
lated to suggest equivocation. It satisfied all the facts of harmonious 
relation and quantitative considerations rightly considered, and leaves 
open the question of universal qualitative identity in the transforma- 
tions of energy and may not imply that " transmission " is the only way 
to conceive the process of change in "mechanical" causation. But 
" conservation" is a term that in its very import implies some sort of 
continuity and identity, so that cases in which this identity may be 
apparent become the norm by which cases are interpreted, which, in 
fact, do not show this identity of kind, but which at the same time 
have the appropriate " correlation" of cause and effect to suggest that 
energy is neither increased nor decreased in the process of change, 
though the change may not involve "transmission" or translation at 
all. But whatever may be the best term to describe the doctrine ac- 
cepted as the " conservation of energy," it is certain that this formula- 
tion of it tends to encourage the conception of identity between cause 
and effect. The simplest illustration of it is evidence of this. In the 
case of the billiard balls the cessation of motion in the first, as the 
theory must represent it, and the appearance of this motion in the 
others, representing perfect continuity in time and mechanical impact, 
is explained by the mere taking up by one ball of the antecedent motion 
imparted to it by the one that has lost its motion. If the uniform effect 
had been the continuance of the motion in the antecedent and the rise 
of motion in the consequent instances, it is possible that the conception 
of the problem of mechanics would have been less convincing of the 
identity between the two terms. But the cessation of the motion in the 
antecedent and its genesis in the consequent suggests that the only 
way to escape an anomalous situation, and measurement confirms it, is 
to conceive the motion as simply transferred and identical in kind with 
that which w^as initial in the case. This is apparent in the simple 
illustration of the balls. The identity of the effect in kind with the 
cause or antecedent motion and the fact that the two stages of it are 
measurably the same in quantity, one ceasing and the other beginning, 
carries with it a conception of qualitative identity throughout which 
cannot easily be resisted. In fact the difference between the various 
moments of the transmission are less apparent, if obsei-\'able at all, 
than the resemblances, and we neglect them entirely in our apprecia- 
tion of the identities, and as the principle of identity is the one by 
which we render the universe an intelligible cosmos for our minds, 
we most naturally put the ictus of thought and explanation on these 
identities and our estimate and conception of the cause and effect in 



MATERIALISM. 395 

such cases as the simplest instances of the transmission of motion take 
on the coloring of the chief factor in them, namely, the identity in 
kind. Now when we experiment with the other "mechanical forces," 
such as heat and electricity, we find a definite correlation between 
them which leads to the conception that they are related in the same 
way. Thus they show unmistakable evidence of some sort of quanti- 
tative relations, involving the alternative and convertible disappearance 
and reappearance of antecedent or consequent, as the " conversion of 
heat into electricity and again of electricity back into heat," and con- 
sequently appear to indicate their identity in view of the fact that 
energy is neither created nor destroyed by the process of change. 
The effect of this is to place the two sets of "phenomena" in the 
same class and to describe them by the same law which is said to be 
the "conservation of energy" and to represent them as involving their 
" mechanical equivalence," their " convei'tibility," and in some cases 
their " interconvertibility." In this language cause and effect are de- 
scribed as equal to each other and this implies their qualitative identity, 
even though the facts and our intentions represent them as only quan- 
titatively related. The whole doctrine, in spite of precautions and 
occasional limitations suggested by various controversies, takes the 
form of a qualitative identity between the several stages of " phenom- 
enal " transformations owing to the original simple conception which 
determined the generalization. 

The main direct consequence of this result is in the application of 
the same principle to motion that had been applied by the earlier 
materalism to matter, namely, its persistence in chang'e. The inde- 
structibility of matter had been experimentally proved, justifying the 
assumption in antiquity of identity between the sensible and supersensi- 
ble worlds in respect to substance, and now experiment has equally 
appeared to establish that identity of motion In all its transformations 
or changes. In other words, the law of identity now applies to both 
matter and motion. Consequently, considering the fact regressively 
in time, as in the case of matter, it implies that motion no more had 
an origin In time than matter, and the Aristotelian and Christian doc- 
trines, implying an original Initium for all inotlon, seems to have met 
wnth a refutation. Hence with the persistence of both matter and 
motion as an established fact, as a truth that is no longer a mere as- 
sumption or conjecture which obtained Its plausibility or acceptance 
on the ground that It could not be denied, w^e not only have the old 
materialistic preconceptions confirmed and the antl-materiallstic posi- 
tion disabled, but there is also nothing left for explanation except 



39*5 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

changes in the direction of motion and the qualitative modifications of 
substance that are not reducible to motion at all. The latter of these 
are presumably the consequence of internal " forces," and the former 
of conflicting motions which might be as original as the qualitative 
differences of the atoms. There can certainly be no more difficulty in 
assuming an eternal variation in kind of motion than the variation in 
kind of the atoms, especially as we have not the reason to suppose any 
such -perpehium mobile to cause only the downward motion of the 
atoms with the necessity of endowing them with free will to produce 
lateral motion. With such conceptions, supported by actual experi- 
ment, the materialistic theory becomes apparently irrefragible. In do- 
ing so also, it has made so extensive a use of the principle of identitv, 
or material causation, as to appear not to need any other for the explana- 
tion of "phenomena" of any kind, and wherever it interprets qualita- 
tive differences as ?jiodes of motion, its principle of identity apparently 
suffices to cover the whole field and it remains master. 

The indirect consequence of the doctrine of the conservation of 
energy, or material causation, is its application to the "phenomena" 
of consciousness. The readiness with which this application could be 
made and was made was determined by the universality of the belief 
that there was a causal nexus between mental and physical "phenom- 
ena." That there had to be such a nexus assumed was an unquestion- 
able necessity in the theistic theory of creation and the primary insti- 
gation of motion. Spiritualism, in its acceptance of the theistic origin 
of things, obtained its excuse for existence as a theory from the 
assumption of a causal influence both in the creation of matter and in 
the collocation of it by means of the initiation of motion, so that in one 
direction at least the possible influence of mind on matter had to be a 
necessary postulate. On the other hand, the theor}- of " knowledge " 
had assumed or asserted the complementary nexus between mind and 
matter as necessary to the production of consciousness ; that is, the 
causal action of matter upon the mind in instigating the occurrence of 
mental states. Moreover, common observation also presented the al- 
ternative coexistence and sequence of mental and physical "phenom- 
ena," physical events no\v being the antecedent of the mental, as in 
sensation and "knowledge" of the external world, and again, mental 
" phenomena " being the antecedent of the physical, as in conscious 
volition initiating physical events. In other words, mental and phys- 
ical "phenomena" represent a concurrent and recurrent series of 
events with a relative import for cause and effect exactlv like that evi- 
dentially in the physical series alone, where, ceteris faribiis^ an ante- 



MATERIALISM. 397 

cedent is a cause in relation to the consequent, and may be an effect in 
relation to a prior antecedent, or the effect a cause in relation to a pos- 
terior consequent. This is only to say that the relation between the 
mental and physical is most naturally interpreted causally, just as the 
relation between the members of the physical series is interpreted. 
Now as this causal relation between the mental and physical has been 
universally accepted, that is, by both schools of thought, with perhaps 
only individual exceptions, and as the causal nexus between the terms 
of the physical series has been presumably proved to be " inaterial," 
that is, representing the principle of identity, it was only natural and 
scientific to suppose that the same interpretation should be put upon 
the nexus between the mental and physical ; that the mental is only a 
conversion or transmission of the physical into it and so identical with 
it in kind. It matters not whether such a result has been proved or 
not. All that I am asserting is that, wath the causal nexus between 
mental and physical generally accepted, and the acceptance of the con- 
servation of energy as the norm of physical causation involving the 
identity of antecedent and consequent in the physical series, the proper 
procedure is to extend this latter conclusion, at least as a most probable 
hypothesis, to cover the relation between the mental and physical. 
The necessary unity of explanation requires this, if the materialistic 
theory is supposed to explain anything at all, and finds no problems in 
the material world not solved by this application of material causation. 
In this application of the principle of identity to the relation between 
the mental and physical, materialism thus obtains a perfect unity 
throughout the " phenomena" of existence, and consciousness is " re- 
duced " to a " mode of motion," which had to be the original hypoth- 
esis of materialism, but which now seems to be verified by the doctrine 
of the conservation of energy and the accepted causal relation be- 
tween the mental and the physical. Materialism thus becomes the 
one simple theory which is apparently capable of explaining all 
" phenomena " whatever, and the principle of material causation or 
identity the agency to interpret the nature of all events whatsoever. 

This outcome of the materialistic doctrine since Descartes has 
modified the conception of materialism which once prevailed. The 
idea of atomic composition still remains as a fundamental tenet in it, 
but the "mechanical" theory of nature, as based upon the conserva- 
tion of energy and the conceptions that have determined our way of 
representing it, has resulted in the interpretation of materialism as con- 
ceptually convertible with the identity of mental and physical "phe- 
nomena," in addition to the idea of atomic composition. But the latter 



39^ Tl^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

conception has retreated into the background as a means for explainin*"'- 
mental events, since the assumption of an absolutely qualitative differ- 
ence between mental and physical, which was supposablv explicable 
as a resultant of composition, an internal " force " analogous to chemi- 
cal affinity, is necessarily abandoned by the new materialism and con- 
sciousness becomes a moment in the transmission of motion. The old 
idea that the nexus between the mental and physical was onlv that of 
efficient causation was exchanged for that of 7iiaterial causation, and 
the " mechanical " philosophy, from being defined and conceived in 
terms of a " mechanical " prius, or efficient cause, as "mechanical" 
causation originally meant, became convertible with the idea of 
equivalence between cause and effect and hence implied identity. 
This idea of identity is clearly indicated in such phrases as "the me- 
chanical equivalent of heat," etc., even though mental reservations are 
made for a different interpretation of the facts and for a limitation of 
the doctrine of conservation of energy to quantitative and excluding 
qualitative problems. But its conception of material causation in its 
assertion or assumption of the identity of matter and motion in all 
their real or apparent changes and transformations carried with it the 
implication that materialism was to be defined by this conception, and 
the older doctrine based upon the admission of priority for efficient 
causality in the problem was exchanged for the priority of material 
causality as the interpreting instrument in the explanation of "phe- 
nomena." The consequence was that the exposition and criticism of 
modern materialism has primarily to consider this reduction of the 
theory to the application of the principle of material causation to all 
events. 

The modern attack upon this materialism, or " mechanical " phi- 
losophy as it is called, is based upon the assumption that the doctrine 
is definable, as indicated, by the affirmation of the identity or converti- 
bility of mental and physical " phenomena." The doctrine that has 
been brought forward to controvert it has been called Parallelism. It 
originates in the conception with which philosophy has been inocu- 
lated by the dualism of Descartes in connection with the monism of 
Leibnitz, and which does not disappear even after men have ad- 
opted monism ! Descartes insisted upon the radical difference between 
mental and physical " phenomena" and the impossibility of " mechan- 
ical " or material causation between them, although he admitted a re- 
lation of efficient causation. The idea survived in the " phenomenal " 
dualism or difference between thought and extension in the philosophy 
of Spinoza in which consciousness and motion or all "phenomena" 



MATERIALISM. 399 

in extension remained inconvertible with each other, thougli they were 
attributes of the same substance, a position at least very near the doc- 
trine of materialism, though not assuming an atomic basis. In fact 
Spinoza conceived substance as material in all the essential implications 
involved in the interpretation of " nature" and accepted the material- 
istic construction of " phenomena " in a monistic form with a provision 
for a spiritualistic aspect in one of its modes parallel with extension, 
making his system as consistent with one system as the other, a 
" double-faced unity," and preparing the way for the conception of the 
Leibnitzian monads which united in themselves in various degrees the 
attributes of matter and mind. But Leibnitz worked out the concep- 
tion of "parallelism" into its most consistent form in the attempt to 
displace the "mechanical" interpretation of mental "phenomena." 
Accepting the dictum of Descartes at this point, namely, that a material 
causal nexus between mind and matter did not exist, he shut his monads 
up from all external influence and from all influence upon the external 
world in terms of the " mechanical " transmission of energy or motion 
from one monad to the other. The unity, coincidence, and actual 
relation or connective appearance of interaction was explained by his 
doctrine of "occasional" causes, or preestablished harmony, an ex- 
pression which was perhaps an unfortunate one for the correct under- 
standing of his real conception and intentions. But apart from 
either the truth or falsity of his conception, it asserted what has been 
called a " parallelism " between internal and external action of all 
kinds. This " parallelism" meant that there was no real transmission 
or translation of motion from one thing to another and that when two 
coexistent or sequent events took place under the appearance of a 
material causal nexus all that covild be said of them was that they had 
a " parallel " or coincidental origin in two different centers of refer- 
ence. This was the most radical position possible against the existing 
conception of materialism. It was as total a denial of material causa- 
tion between different realities as materialism was an affirmation of it. 
The materialist explained all "phenomena" of causation by "mate- 
rial " causation alone. Leibnitz denied in toto the existence of any 
such causation, and whether true or false in his view threw down the 
gauntlet to materialism in the boldest waj- and challenged the existence 
of its conceptions even in the material world. Applied to the relation 
between the mental and physical it meant that they were not converti- 
ble ; that there was no jnjluxus physicus into the mental and no 
injizi'xus mentalis into the physical world. Now as I have said, 
Leibnitz intended this position to be a refutation of the prevailing 



400 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

materialism or " mechanical " philosophy of his time with which he was 
confronted. But neither he nor Descartes knew anything of the ex- 
perimental facts which, since their time, have proved the quantitative 
relations and presumably the qualitative identity between cause and 
effect in the physical world, though it is possible that Leibnitz would 
adapt his views to present facts. They were contending on a priori 
grounds against an a priori assumption and were perhaps equally 
justified with their opponents in the assumption of intransmissibility of 
motion between mind and matter. But, however this may be, the 
proof that the quantity of energy remains the same in all phvsical 
changes and modifications of motion, and the assumption or proof that 
its quality is also the same, have really or apparently confirmed the 
materialistic theory within the domain of physics at large and leaves to 
the parallelist and anti-materialist the necessity of denying its applica- 
tion to the relation between matter and mind, whatever may be true of 
matter alone, thus resuming the position of Descartes in the case. 
But unless the opponent of materialism wishes to insist upon Cartesian 
dualism, his monism and the acceptance of a causal nexus between 
mental and physical " phenomena," whether progressively or retro- 
gressively conceived, will suggest the possibility that the law of 
" mechanical" causality will apply to the relation between matter and 
mind quite as well as between the separate terms in either of the series 
alone. As the "phenomenal" order of events in the physical series 
and in the mental and physical sei'ies together is the same, the evidential 
situation for a causal nexus of some kind is as apparent in one case as 
the other and hence the opponent of materialism must either deny a 
causal relation in both and resort to a doctrine of preestablished har- 
mony, which philosojjhy has agreed to reject, or accept the plausibility 
of the extension of the material causality to the relation between the 
mental and physical after it is admitted in the ph^'sical series, unless 
he is prepared for an analysis of the causality problem which will meet 
the conditions of the case. This last course would require a distinc- 
tion of at least two kinds of causes in the general problem of explana- 
tion. 

The course suggested is probably the real meaning and intention of 
the parallelist when den^-ing the causal relation between mental and 
physical " phenomena," though he too frequently discusses the prob- 
lem in a way to indicate that he has efficient causality in mind as well 
as material when denying the relation which has as much empirical 
evidence in the mental and phvsical series together as in the physical 
alone, where the causal nexus is admitted by the parallelist in the ma- 



MA TERIALISM. 401 

terial sense, as perhaps Leibnitz would not liave done. If then, instead 
of carrying on the controversy in terms that apparently deny a// " causal " 
relation whatever between mental and physical events, we insist upon the 
distinction between efficient and material causes, between what may be 
called " occasional" and constitutive causes, we may have a legitimate 
resource, speculatively at least, for combatting the much dreaded ma- 
terialism. This distinction would enable us to deny the application of 
the principle of identity and material causation to the relation between 
the two types of " phenomena," as the parallelist really does, while 
we affirm a " causal " relation of genesis or instigation, which will 
satisfy the natural conclusion drawn from their coexistence and sequence, 
as this relation is the evidential characteristic in the physical series of 
a "causal" nexus of some kind. The distinction can accept the 
natural judgment of a qualitative difference between mental and phys- 
ical, and even between the various terms of a physical series, while it 
maintains that the problem and conclusion represented in the conserva- 
tion of energy is merely quantitative and not qualitative, so that ma- 
terial causality is excluded from the nexus between the mental and the 
physical while the nexus of efficient causation may remain intact. It 
would then be in a position to impose a dilemma upon materialism. 
Dropping for the present the question whether the conservation of 
energy is merely quantitative and not qualitativej the point to be noted 
is that the distinction between the problems of efficient and those of 
material causes is adapted to the denial of a material identity of mental 
and physical while it concedes an efficient causal nexus between them 
as an "occasioning" influence in the genesis of one or the other 
" phenomenon," as the case may require. This will be equal to the 
demand that materialism either change its definition and conception of 
its problem as essentially occupied with the principle of identity and 
material causation between " phenomena," especially in the connection 
between matter and mind, or obtain its evidence for this material nexus 
in mental " phenomena " and physical together in some other fact than 
the relation of coexistence or sequence, since this can be presumably 
explained as an occurrence by efficient or " occasional" causes without 
admitting a material nexus at all. The advantage which the materialist 
has had in the argument arises from the general admission of a causal 
nexus between mental and physical " phenomena " without any defini- 
tion of its limitations and meaning and the fact that parallelism has 
had no special recognition until philosophy was confronted with the 
materialistic application of the principle of identity or material causes 
in the relations between mind and matter. His contention was good 
26 



402 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

for ad /ioj}iinef}i purposes as long as the distinction between efficient 
and material causes was not known or explicitly urged as an argument 
against him, so that he could consistently and effectively maintain that 
the explanation was valid for the connection between mind and matter 
wherever an undistinguished causality was admitted in the case. But 
once insist upon the distinction mentioned and the ad kominem argu- 
ment would not be valid, and ad rem facts would have to be produced 
to show that material causality applied to the case as well as efficient 
or "occasional" causes. The anti-materialist would be invulnerable 
with his distinction until the distinction itself was either disproved in 
general or shown to be indifferent to the materialist's problem. 

But the strange part of the controversy at this point is that the pro- 
cedure of the parallelist and materialist alike was an abandonment of 
the position which each should have taken. If the materialist had 
accepted the conclusion of the spiritualist, as he should have done, and 
if the spiritualist had accepted the materialist's theory of conservation, 
both would have come to an agreement and left nothing but a differ- 
ence of terms to distinguish between their views. The spiritualist 
ought to have seen that his argument against materialism, as a denial 
of the persistence of consciousness, depended for its effectiveness upon 
the acceptance of the materialist's doctrine of the conservation of 
energy, and that the materialist ^vas whollv inconsequent when he 
insisted upon the integrity of his traditional theory after assuming the 
identity of the mental and physical, or a material causal nexus between 
them. If the physical is convertible with the mental, as this material 
causal nexus assumes, then motion and consciousness are identical, and 
the persistence of the one implies the equal persistence of the other. 
The eternity of matter and motion must imply the eternity of con- 
sciousness because there can be no distinction, by hypothesis, between 
it and motion. We cannot reduce them to identity without admitting 
the force of what is meant by " consciousness " as well as " motion." 
What the materialist thought he could do with impunity was to iden- 
tify the two things and denv the previous implications of " conscious- 
ness " altogether, or affirm their identity by assuming the falsity of 
their difference and yet retain the implications of universalizing " mo- 
tion " without recognizing " consciousness " at all ! But he cannot do 
this on any theorv of matei"ial causation alone. He must accept 
" consciousness " in the system with all that it means and consider that 
" motion" abstracted from " consciousness " no more exists independ- 
ently than "consciousness" without "motion," The materialist 
ought to have seen that his application of the conservation had in- 



MATERIALISM. 403 

volved a total abandonment of the position for which his theory had 
traditionally stood. The anti-materialist should have taken advantage 
of the ad hominem argument, as just shown, and as absolutely invul- 
nerable without a reconstruction of the problem on his own terms, and 
not have placed himself on the defensive by advocating the paradoxical 
theory of parallelism, Vk^hich can be accepted apparently as rational 
only on the condition that it is convertible w^ith the distinction between 
efficient and material causes. By insisting upon the logical conse- 
quences of the materialist's own theory of causation the spiritvialist 
could have forced the materialist either to accept the permanence and 
non-phenomenal nature of consciousness, that is, the immortality of 
the " sovil " on a physical basis, which it had been the purpose of that 
doctrine all along to deny, or to modify the doctrine of the conserva- 
tion of energy and to concede that there are qualitative problems of 
causality which quantitative methods do not decide ; that qualitative 
changes are not accounted for by material causation with its regulating 
principle of identity, and that " mechanical " principles, assuming this 
identity, cannot explain or make intelligible more than one half the 
universe of science and philosophy. The materialist is clearly in a 
fatal dilemma here. He must either reconstruct his method or concede 
the limitations of the conservation of energy, if he is to insist any 
longer on the denial of immortality, and on any terms he is in the 
hands of the spiritualist who accepts the conservation of energy, and 
such mercy as he may display will depend upon the assurance that he 
can hold the materialist to the conclusions which he has drawn from 
his observations and experiments without retracing his steps to the dis- 
tinction between efficient and material causes. 

It is evident, therefore, that the materialist had departed from the 
original conception of his theory in discrediting the permanence of 
consciousness after identifying it with motion and then declaring this 
to have been proved to be eternal by experimentation, and retained 
nothing but the word "materialism" for his position, relying upon 
association and the ignorance of the student to accept the inconsequent 
conclusion drawn fi'om it. On the other hand, the spiritualist or anti- 
materialist took up the old assumptions of the materialist as to the 
distinction between efficient and material causes and tried to force a 
conclusion the opposite of what actually may follow from it. Instead 
of imposing the above mentioned dilemma upon his opponent he ac- 
cepted the older position of materialism with a denial of its necessary 
consequence ! He chose for his weapon of offense and refutation the 
very fact that made possible the purely " phenomenal" nature of con- 



404 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sciousness and took to fighting against the doctrine which proved his 
own contentions ! This is truly a humorous situation. Both parties 
performed the impossible feat for which Hegel has been so roundly- 
abused, namely, that of actually holding that the truth is the unity and 
identity of contradictories, for while the materialist was bent on deny- 
ing the permanence of consciousness his doctrine affirmed it, and the 
spiritualist, while he was bent on denying that consciousness is a func- 
tion of the organism, he placed his argument on a position which 
affirmed it, or made that affirmation possible. Each party, in his haste 
and zeal to refute the other, assuming that he must not admit the major 
premises of his opponent, adopted conceptions which should have been 
the premises and had been the original premises of his antagonist and 
then argued against doctrines which he should have accepted on his 
own proper premises ! Mutual absorption is not always the result of 
philosophic controversies, but this one reminds us of the Kilkenny 
cats. 

There is another inconsequence which the materialist has been guilty 
of and which must be noticed. I have called attention to his original 
extension of the term "matter" to cover the supersensible as well as 
the sensible world of reality and shown that it might have been ques- 
tioned until the scientific proof of the indestructibility of "matter" 
justified this extension. But this v\'as in dealing with the problem 
involved in distinctions between sensible and supersensible facts. The 
inconsequence to be noticed cannot plead in its defence any such dis- 
tinction. It concerns the extension of the term ' ' matter " in the same 
world, whether sensible or supersensible it matters not, and where the 
qualities are not present to give it its proper connotation. This exten- 
sion is shown in the modern speculations about the nature of " matter." 
Various facts and intellectual tendencies, one of the latter being per- 
haps the same instinct that prompted theistic speculation to assume the 
created nature of " matter," namely to ask the cause of every possible 
reality, have induced scientific men to explain how matter may have 
come into existence. Granting the assumption that it was or might be 
a dependent reality, instead of supposing it the creation of intelligence, 
the scientific man, either from motives of evolution or from the desire 
to obtain some ultimate monistic reality, has explained "matter" to 
have been formed from " vortex atoms of ether." Now the ether had 
been defined by qualities which are the negation of everything by 
which "matter" is known to be "matter," and this reduction of 
material substance to a modification of ether which is not " matter" at 
all, is a virtual admission that the ultimate reality is immaterial. But 



MA TERIALISM. 405 

if you ask these same scientists wiiat " ether" is they will tell you that 
it is a " form of matter " ! This is a contradiction in terms. We can- 
not reduce matter to a creation or evolution from the immaterial and 
yet define the ultimate reality as "material" without forfeiting the 
right to distinguish against the anti-materialistic point of view, as the 
generalization of the term " inatter" in this extension of it covers both 
the positive and negative qualities of the old conception ! Another 
union of contradictories ! Reasoning is impossible on any side of any 
question if this procedure is permitted to go on with impunity. I do 
not deny that " matter" may be formed from " vortex atoms of ether," 
but this cannot be true at the same time that " ether" is to be regarded 
as a "form of matter." One or the other alternative will have to be 
sacrificed, if the materialistic hypothesis is to have any logical fulcrum 
against spiritualism. If the distinction made in the case and the exten- 
sion of the meaning of the term " matter " involved that between a sen- 
sible and supersensible world this contention just put forward would not 
hold true. The alternatives would not be so clear. But the extension 
covers facts of distinction and opposition in the same world, the super- 
sensible and all rational procedure requires some respect for distinc- 
tions of fact when giving names to the results. If we insist upon 
generalizing a concept to cover such distinct objects as the present 
qualities of matter and the negation of them we must not carry with it 
either the conception or implications of the older use of the term. 
This duty, however, is not so often observed as it should be. The 
interests of controversy induce us to evade it. 

The defence of the materialist against both of these inconsequences 
above should have been the consistent limitation of the term " matter," 
on the one hand, and the frank abandonment of material causation as 
the only method of explaining the origin and nature of " phenomena," 
and to have cultivated the advantage which he possessed in the hypoth- 
esis of internal causes or " forces " to account for qualitative changes 
and differences. The fundamental error of the materialist was his 
abandonment and evasion of the category of difference^ if I may adopt 
a remark of Sterling, and in using only the category of identity, where 
the other is quite as evident a fact in "phenomena" as identity and 
already admitted in the non-phenomenal world of atoms which were not 
all qualitatively alike. If the materialist would only remain by the dis- 
tinction between efficient and material causation he could treat all dif- 
ferences, variations from the " uniformity of nature," or qualitative 
changes attached to quantitative identity, as " epiphenomena" or inci- 
dental effects of causes that guarantee no necessary permanence for 



4o6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

their effects, which on that account may be transient and "phenom- 
enal." That is to say, whatever account we may or may not be able to 
give of " efficient " causes, the materialist should have recognized from 
the very conception of differences between causes and effects where qual- 
itative changes are facts that his assumption of internal causation had 
provided for an explanation of certain "phenomena" incompatible 
with their causation by the transmission of motion from an external 
source, and hence a modal modification not traceable to material 
causality. In this way it might well admit the qualitative difference 
between consciousness and external motion, refusing to apply "me- 
chanical " causality as implying equivalence to them, so as to make 
consciousness an incidental effect of the process of efficient causation, 
either of external motion modified by the subject to which it is trans- 
mitted, or of the internal nature and action of the subject to which the 
motion is transmitted. There could then be no answer to its position 
but the production of facts which v^^ould prove that, whatever relation 
consciousness as an event might have to the efficient action of external 
stimulus, it was and is not a function of the material organism with 
which it is associated in its known manifestations usually, that is, not 
a merely " phenomenal " incident of composition, but a mode of action 
which has a persistence equal to the integrity of the subject of which 
it is a function independent of the organism and not dissolvable with 
it. The evidence which will satisfy any such terms must be of the 
kind which will prove the identity of any given consciousness after the 
dissolution of the organism. Unless this is undertaken materialism 
will have the advantage of the distinction between efficient and mate- 
rial causes, assuming that it abandons its conception of " mechanical" 
causes, and also of the uniform association of consciousness with the 
material organism and no accepted evidence of its isolation from it. 

Summary. 
Greek genius showed itself in its art, and this was imitated in Ro- 
man tastes and manners. This reflected a sensuous view of life and it 
infected its whole religious cult. Philosophy was more free from the 
infection, but did not wholly escape it, and in the Epicurean system 
returned to the natural taste and conceptions of the race. In its revolt 
against materialism, Christianity carried its spiritual tendencies into the 
entire field of human interests, and so embodied its conceptions in a 
fixed antipathy to philosophic materialism, art and idolatry. Nothing 
was more uncompromising than its opposition to the last. Its view of 
spiritual life was wholly internal and it turned away from sense as 
from evil. It was many centuries before the reaction came, and this 



MA TERIALISM. 407 

was announced by the revival of pictorial art, which did not become 
dominant at once. 

1 . The first indication of a materialistic revival was the rise and 
prominence of painting in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. It was 
religious in form, but represented a sensuous instead of a spiritual con- 
ception of religious life. The inner and reflective life had lost its 
force and beauty, and the religious consciousness sought satisfaction in 
reviving the contemplation of sensuous embodiment for its ideals. 
The church had for centuries refused to recognize this interest and now 
it sprang again into existence and initiated a taste for the real as dis- 
tinct from the ideal world. 

2. The next step in the same direction was the Renaissance or the 
revival of ancient literature and an enthusiasm for a natural life. This 
was the feature of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Greek and 
Roman ideals began to supplant the Christian and the mind had its 
momentum toward material life and civilization increased. 

3. The Protestant Reformation extended the same impulse to 
religious authority and originated freedom of conscience and belief. 
This occupied the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and eviscerated the 
power of the church to interfere successfully with the progress of 
science which had begun to show its conquests over traditional views of 
nature and terminated in the " higher criticism " which was the logical 
consequence of raising the question of authority in human belief. 

4. In the whole history of Christianity there was a field of reality 
consigned to " natural" agencies and this meant originally ^//!_yj'Z*ca/ 
forces. Providential and Divine agency applied wherever the physical 
did not seem to explain things. This field of physical powers was a 
comparatively limited one, and as long as the belief in miracles endured 
there was no difficulty in finding a cause for any apparent exception 
to the domain of " natural" law. General cosmic action was referred 
to providential agency either directly or indirectly. Hence with the 
predominance of religious conceptions and an insistence on a religious, 
view of the cosmos the Ptolemaic system became a dogma whose in- 
tegrity could not be disturbed without affecting religion and without 
creating a presumption in favor of the opposing view. Copernican 
astronomy set aside the Ptolemaic and encouraged confidence in the 
scientific way of looking at things, though it did not alter the field of 
supposed direct Divine action in the regulation of the cosmos. But 
Newtonian gravitation followed with its conception of "natural" 
attraction and still more limited the field of miraculous interference. 
Then came Darwinism and extended " natural " action to the formation 



4o8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of species, and did for time what Newtonian gravitation did for space, 
namely, applied " natural " agencies to the field of organic creation as 
gravitation explains the collocations of matter. The last fortress of 
creationism had been the beginning of things in time when some out- 
side agency was required to initiate them. But gravitation and evolu- 
tion transferred this initium into so remote a period that anything could 
be said with impunity about it. The increase of material agencies in 
the explanation of phenomena left no assured field for the "supernat- 
ural," and the materialistic theory obtained the victory. 

5. The first definite admission of the sufficiency of a mechanical 
theory of "natvn-e"was that of Descartes. He allowed "natural" 
causes to prevail in the field of matter, though he admitted the Divine 
as an initiating agency. But mechanical causes were deemed adequate 
to the explanation of all material phenomena. Spinoza followed and 
reduced mental phenomena, which Descartes had excepted from 
material influences, to functional events in a material substance or 
Absolute. Dalton came with a restatement of the atomic theory and 
used a system of internal forces to explain the combinations of matter 
and thus applied materialism to all compounds. Thus it seemed that 
both the monistic and the pluralistic view of " nature " were consistent 
with materialism. 

6. Christianity had organized a theory of creation as against the 
Greek doctrine of evolution and so placed spirit at the basis of things, 
matter being phenomenal and evanescent. But the discovery of the 
indestructibility of matter reversed this order and tended to make 
mental phenomena incidental and transient. Philosophy had been so 
saturated with the conviction that there was but one ultimate basis for 
existence that the eternal nature of matter simply dispossessed the 
priority of mind unless it could be assigned a function in the movement 
of matter,, and there this idea prevailed to account for the changes of 
the cosmic order until the conservation of energy seemed to reinstate 
the same eternity for motion that indestructibility applied to matter. 
The materialistic theory thus seemed to prevail over the whole king- 
dom of "nature." Mental phenomena became transient accidents of 
organization and disappeared as many other functions of matter with 
the dissolution of the compounds with which they were associated. 

7. Physiology and pathology added their acquisitions to the same con- 
clusion. In them the integrity of consciousness seemed wholly depend- 
ent upon the organism and its conditions, so that it appears to be a func- 
tion of this organism and not of some other and associated reality such 
as a soul. There thus seemed no field for the independence of mind. 



CHAPTER XL 
SPIRITUALISM. 

It will be necessary here to examine somewhat closely the meaning 
of spiritualism, though it has been defined previously with a view to 
establishing its antithesis to materialism. This relation was considered 
briefly in the classification of the theories of knowledge and reality (p. 
72), but it will require to be reconsidered here in order to make per- 
fectly clear the complicated problem with which we have to deal in an 
exposition of it, and of the arguments by which it is supported. 
Materialism has always been a comparatively simple theory, in that it 
applied the same formula to cosmic and psychological " phenomena," 
explaining absolutely all events in the same general way, and consti- 
tuting, in one sense at least, a system of monism, whether of the Spin- 
ozistic or the Lucretian type. But spiritualism has not always insisted 
upon describing and explaining cosmic "phenomena" by the same 
general principle. It has sometimes accepted a field for material 
"phenomena" distinct from the mental, as in Cartesian dualism and 
the various conceptions of " common sense." In this form it is a 
theory opposed only to what is here called psychological materialism, 
and might be conceived as consistent with pan-materialism. Only oc- 
casionally has it assumed the form of " pan-spiritualism," a claim often 
made for the system of Spinoza by those who feel that they cannot 
escape its meshes and who wish therefore to delude themselves and 
others with the illusion that idealism is a good substitute for religion. 
I have, already indicated that this pan-spiritualism does not escape the 
necessity of considering the problem which has been so hotly discussed 
between psychological materialism and psychological spiritualism, 
namely, that regarding the value and persistence of consciousness, 
whose value depends upon its persistence. Consequently, as this 
problem would take the form of determining the relation between the 
different modes of a spiritual, absolute, and as materialism has usually 
taken the form of an atomic doctrine, it will be best to discuss the 
problem in the form in which its historical setting has been determined. 
But even in its conception of an antithesis to psychological materialism 
it has indirectly complicated itself with cosmic problems without be- 
coming a monistic theory itself. On this account I have divided the 
doctrine into three types, the theological^ the philosophical and the 

409 



4IO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

scientific^ according to the method adopted for its solution, and accord- 
ing as it is or is not complicated with speculations that are extrane- 
ous, or only indirectly connected with its main object, the permanence 
of consciousness. Theological spiritualism bases its support for the 
persistence and value of consciousness upon a divine revelation ; philo- 
sophic spiritualism upon rationalistic interpretations of the nature of 
things ; and scientific spiritualism upon inductive and experimental 
evidence. These several points of view often interpenetrate, so that 
the exposition of the doctrine of spiritualism generally will bring us 
into contact with all of them in the course of its history, and I shall 
leave to the reader the detection of the specific type that is under dis- 
cussion at any time, the main point to be remembered being that they 
are all designed to refute materialism in one or all its forms. 

There is another complication in which spiritualism and its contro- 
versy with materialism is involved. Spiritualism has a destrtictive 
and a constrtictive iwwzXXow to perform. The first necessity of its exist- 
ence is the denial and refutation of materialism, a negative or sceptical 
function which does not commit it to any constructive work in the 
argument. The result of stopping with the refutation of materialism 
would only be that this theory would not explain the nature and mean- 
ing of consciousness, but it would not necessarily determine any reality 
that did explain the "phenomena" of mind. Immaterialism, so to 
speak, would be the result, with liberty to give it any interpretation 
that other interests might determine. The constructive effort might 
take the direction of either pan-spiritualism or of psychological spirit- 
ualism, whether of the theological, the philosophical, or the scientific 
type. But it is rare that it denies the existence of matter unequiv- 
ocally. It may, and often enough does, deny the "independent" 
existence of " matter," that is, a self-existent material realitv capable 
of explaining "-phenomena" of any kind or in any way, but when it 
comes to characterize " reality " constructively which will explain, 
the theory which takes this course is not always zealous to call this 
"reality" God or to imply that it is consciousness of any intelligible 
sort. It is idealism in the garb of spiritualism, while those who are 
willing to describe the " reality," which in some way " creates" what 
ordinarily passes for "matter" in the mind of the idealist, as God, 
adopt the theological type of spiritualism. But as the majority of men 
admit the existence of " matter " as something capable of producing 
effects, whether directly or indirectly, and whether it is conceived as 
a self-existent or an independent reality, the usual antithesis implied 
between materialism and spiritualism is that in which spiritualism 



SPIRI TUALISM. 4 1 1 

loes not deny the existence of matter in some sense of the term, but 
denies the adequacy of matter to explain all the " phenomena" of the 
cosmos, and especially the ''phenomena" of consciousness. The 
materialistic theory is not primarily occupied with proving the exist- 
ence of matter but with its explanatory power. It simply takes the 
existence of matter for granted and undertakes to explain " phe- 
nomena " by the use of its functions. Of course it would be a fine 
controversial advantage to deny the materialist's assumption of the 
existence of matter as it would throw upon him the burden of proving 
what he assumes as evident. But when we recognize that the anti- 
materialist who appears to be denying so valiantly the very existence 
of matter is not denying either the facts which the materialist has in 
his possession or the relations between " phenomena " which are equally 
evident facts, we find that the denial is a mere subterfuge to avoid 
using the word " materialism " where it would be extremely incon- 
venient to do so. But, as I have previously remarked, the question is 
not whether we shall use the terms " matter " or " spirit," but whether 
the relation between consciousness and other events in respect of con- 
nection or causality and permanence is or is not what the ' ' material- 
ist " claims it is, as this problem would only involve a slight change 
of terms, whether we assume the monistic or the pluralistic point of 
view. Hence the primary question is not the existence of anything 
called "matter," but the adequac}' of the explanation which embodies 
itself in the term materialism, whether considered as a " phenomenal " 
or a " noumenal " theory, that is to say, whether it deals with mere 
coexistences and sequence of events or involves the assumption of real 
substances or atoms, monistic or pluralistic. 

The consequence of these facts is that I shall define spiritualism as 
the theory which denies that consciousness is a function of organization 
in matter, but affirms that it is a function of some other reality. This 
general point of view has been sufficiently indicated before and is only 
renewed here to have it present in the recognition of the circumstance 
that the arguments in behalf of the doctrine are partly negative of ma- 
terialism and partly positive in support of spiritualism. Some avail only 
to create difficulties in the materialistic view anH some avail to suggest 
or demand, in the name of the principle of causality which material- 
ism respects, a source for mental phenomena other than anything called 
matter, at least as long as that conception is limited to the accepted 
definition of it. I shall not classify the negative and positive argu- 
ments, but discuss the problem in its historical development and 
changes with the arguments for and against and leave the student to 



413 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

determine when I am dealing with destructive and when with con- 
structive considerations. The negative arguments can not prove 
spiritualism, but, if valid at all, only that the materialistic theorv is 
insufficient to account for all the " phenomena" of observation. They 
can suggest or prove nothing more than the fact that an immaterial 
reality is necessary to meet the demands of explanation. But to prove 
spiritualism we should have to show that this immaterial realitv is 
actually conscious, or that there is a type of immaterial reality 
that is conscious. Spiritualism must imply consciousness or it is 
not different from materialism in regard to the fundamental problem 
hefore us, namely, the value, meaning and persistence of consciousness. 
Here is where Berkeley made his failure. His abstraction from the 
sensible did not give him " spirit," not even an escape from the his- 
torical materialism whose conception of matter was a supersensible re- 
ality, but only a negation of sensatio7ial \x\^\.&x\vii\%\r\, or the " common 
sense " conception of matter which assumes that sensation gives us the 
true " nature " of it. But even if the abstraction of the sensible did 
rightly displace materialism the existence of " spirit " did not follow as 
the reality which he placed at the basis of the cosmos, because his dis- 
junction was not correct. Assuming the dualistic position of Descartes 
the argument was sound enough. But that reality must be limited to 
the two kinds, mind and matter, is a purely arbitrary assumption. There 
may be any number of realities neither mental nor material in the uni- 
verse, so that the only conclusion which Berkeley could draw, even 
admitting that he had escaped the historical materialism, was that the 
ultimate basis of things was immate7-ial., and he should have presented 
special and additional evidence that this reality was conscious. The 
positive assertion of spiritualism, if it is to have any definite meaning, 
must imply the presence of consciousness. I do not say that it must 
be true. That is the question to be decided. But the only doctrine 
that can satisfy the demand for the persistence of consciousness or 
the survival of personal identity beyond the dissolution of the 
organism is that which defines "spirit" or "soul" as implying the 
fact. If we prefer, we may sav that " spirit" should technically mean 
discarnate " soul " and " soul " incarnate " spirit," but in so far as the 
general theory of spiritualism is concerned either term will satisfy the 
definition. Unless idealism is svnonymous with this conception, it can 
only mean immaterialism and remain agnostic or dogmatically opposed 
to survival after death. It is usuallv one or the other of these alter- 
natives. Its opposition to materialism is onlv technical and conceives 
it as a sensational theory of things while it intends to be an intellectual 



SPIRITUA L ISM. 4 1 3 

doctrine, as I have already shown above. The negative arguments 
for spiritualism, if valid, do not take us beyond the refutation of 
materialism, but do not establish positively the persistence of con- 
sciousness, though at least suggesting its possibility. Whether any 
such result be possible is not the problem that is before us, but only 
the conception of the theory that must be definitely and clearly opposed 
to materialism and satisfy the assertion that consciousness is not a 
function of the bodily organism. 

'The doctrine of spiritualism was not clearly defined until Chris- 
tianity asserted it and worked out the theory with a philosophy. The 
anti-materialism of the Greeks was largely a denial of the sensa- 
tionalism of the earlier period of reflection and an assertion of intel- 
lectualism, the distinction involving nothing more ethically and philo- 
sophically than the superior value of the intellectual life, the importance 
of recognizing the true, the beautiful, and the good, as they were em- 
bodied in nature, art and politics.' This general characterization of 
Greek thought, however, may do an injustice to some of its represen- 
tatives and to the actual beliefs of common people of whom we have 
heard little or nothing directly. Indicating, as I have done, that the 
main tendency of Greek speculation was a distinction between realities 
of the same kind and only between the sensible and supersensible forms 
of this reality which was monistically conceived, whether as in atomism 
or in the pantheistic view, the test whether spiritualism describes any 
conceptions philosophically entertained by that race must be found in 
their doctrine of immortality, because there is no way whatever to show, 
that consciousness is not a function of the organism but to maintain a 
theory which asserts its survival of bodily death. Now Plato main- 
tained with much positiveness and argument that the soul was im- 
mortal, Aristotle admitted it for the " rational soul," and the Stoics 
held it in a rather vague form. With Socrates it was a pious belief 
not worked out philosophically. It is probable that some sort of 
personal survival was accepted by the common people at one time at 
least, for there is evidence from statements of Homer and later ^vriters 
that Hades, the land of ghosts and shadows, w^as the place of discar- 
nate souls whose life was a more or less conscious one, but less inter- 
esting and perfect than their incarnate existence. But the philosophers 
evaded responsibility for any such naive views, and if their silence is 
evidence, they seem to have shied at ghost stories quite as the materia- 
list of to-day does. Whatever conception they took of immortality was 
colored, as was quite natural and is perhaps always the case, by their 
general philosophy of nature, as they considered the "soul" such a 



414 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

part of nature as to be involved in its process and tendencies. But 
their conception of it, be this what it may, must be the test of what is 
meant by the application of a spiritualistic doctrine to them and must 
also describe the nature and limits of the " idealism" that is attributed 
to them. We have seen enough in the discussion of materialism to 
learn that it is not the words used that determines the meaning of a 
theory but the synthetic imjDlications of it in a wide range of facts and 
beliefs. This same consideration must be taken into account in dis- 
cussing the relation of Greek thought to the problems which center about 
the nature and persistence of consciousness. The fact that they use the 
words "soul" and " immortality" does not imply of itself that they 
had conceptions of them the same as ours in anv respect. This is even 
apparent in the " phenomenal " use of the term '• soul " bv the entire 
"empirical" school of phenomenalists in modern times, where it is 
conceived as the name for mental states, not for the subject of them or 
for a reality other than the brain, the last supposition not being enter- 
tained by them. The Greek philosophers did not make clear whether 
they viewed the " soul" as a substance or as an attribute, if I mav use 
a modern distinction which enables us to distinguish between the sub- 
ject and the " phenomena " of consciousness. This modern distinction 
enables us to assume a permanent fact different from its action, which 
may be variously interrupted or ephemeral. The substance remains 
permanent while Its actions as functions may be " phenomenal," If in 
any way the resultant of its combination with another substance. The 
Greek, of course, had a conception of substance, but until materialism 
in the atomic form modified philosophic conceptions he conceived sub- 
stance in action as a process of metaviorphosis^ after the analogy of 
evolutionary growth, and not of combination^ after the analogy of 
the composition of forces, though in fact we find a very frequent com- 
promise or union of both points of view during the process of develop- 
ment into clearer views which were realized In the materialistic theory 
and the reaction in Christian thought ; clearer because the development 
brought out the distinctions necessarv to show the nature of the impli- 
cations Involved. But In spite of the fact that the idea of " substance " 
was as clear to Greek thouo-ht as to anv other, its failure to distinguish 
between kinds of substance as radicallv as later thought of every type, 
prevented it from distinguishing as clearly between its modal manifes- 
tations, and as the " soul" was conceived in the form of a refined mat- 
ter its functions w^ere inevitably Implicated in preconceptions of the 
same nature, so that the permanence that the mental would get must 
be analogous to the permanence which was asserted or believed of the 



SPIRITUALISM. 4 1 5 

material. This tendency would determine the meaning of the term 
" immortality," which is consistent with either the indestructibility of 
matter or the permanence of consciousness, or with either a doctrine 
of metamorphosis, metempsychosis, or with personal survival after 
death. Which view the Greeks had must be determined in order to 
interpret the meaning of either " idealism " or spiritualism as applied 
to their speculative position in philosophy generally. 

It is Plato that subsequent generations have selected to represent 
the anti-materialistic theory of Greek philosophy. The reason for this, 
of course, was his affirmation of immortality. Had not his statements 
been definitely on the affirmative of this doctrine less sympathy with 
his philosophy by later times would have been declared. This is appa- 
rent in the comparative indifference shown to Aristotle on this same 
point, as he was less explicit in the defence of the doctrine, though 
admitting it for the "rational" part of man. Aristotle was the 
authority for conceptions and arguments in behalf of a theistic origin 
of the cosmos, a doctrine which was worked out to indirectly support 
immortality, after direct evidence was more or less discredited. -But 
Plato has left us an explicit defence of a doctrine of immortality and 
later Christian thought did not ask any discriminating questions in the 
interpretation of it when an affirmative doctrine could be used at least 
for ad hoviinem purposes with Greek and philosophic thinkers who 
did not know enough of Platonic philosophy to discover its inherent 
variation from the personal immortality which was the subject of pur- 
suit in Christian thought. It was the fine ethical spirit of Plato that cap- 
tivated the earlier Christian thinkers, an ethical spirit that coincided with 
theirs, except that it was more definitely limited in its applications to 
aesthetic and political life than among Christians. Plato had connected 
morality with his doctrine of immortality, and in this way it was easy 
to assume that his view of the order of things was identical with the 
Christian doctrine of probation and personal immortality, but a care- 
ful study of Plato, such as modern philosophy enables us to make, will 
reveal the fact that it is just as easy to misrepresent the identity of the 
two positions as it was for the ancients to misunderstand Plato when 
the fundamental postulates of the Greek philosophy of nature had been 
forgotten. The psychological and metaphysical points of view in the 
two movements must be carefully distinguished in any estimation of 
their relations to the problem which we are here discussing. Their 
psychological and metaphysical antitheses were expressed in the same 
terms, but did not have the same conceptions or implications. The 
psychological antithesis in both cases was between " sense" and " rea- 



41 6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

son " with perhaps comparative identity of meaning. But correspond- 
ing to this was their antithesis between " matter" and " spirit" in the 
metaphysical field. But with the Greek this antithesis was between a 
sensible and a supersensible realit}' within the physical world alone, 
while with the Christian the distinction between the " sensible " and 
" supersensible " worlds was an antithesis between the physical and the 
superphysical, involving the idea that the " spiritual " was essentially 
immaterial, while that of the Greeks was only a refined material real- 
ity. This fact must be perpetually kept in mind when estimating the 
meaning of Greek thought and in the interpretation of the doctrine of 
Plato who only apparently transcended the conceptions of his time and 
race, simply because he did not clearly break with them, though he 
certainly brings us to the point where that break is natural, and sug- 
gests that he had a glimpse of what he coidd not make clear either to 
himself or others. 

I shall not assert without qualification that Plato had no conception, 
whatever of a personal immortality of some kind, because we must 
always remember two things in regard to his philosophy. First, it 
was cosmopolitan and represented more or less the convergence of 
every stream of thought previous to his own time, embellished with an 
art that no other Greek could give it. Secondly, his own doctrines 
were never worked out with complete consistency nor into a systematic 
whole like the doctrines of Aristotle. Plato was too much enamored 
with dialectic as an art and with the dramatization of philosophic dis- 
course, and also too conscious of the sceptical difficulties involved 
in any dogmatic system, to intrust himself with any final conclu- 
sions on one side only of a problem. He was forever looking at 
both sides of the shield of Hercules, trying to get a unity which he 
never found in what was essentially double faced to his point of view, 
and hence could not cut himself free from the monism which cooi'di- 
nated mind and matter to adopt either a dualism that cooi'dinated them 
in a higher unity of mind, or a monism that subordinated matter to 
mind. He accepted as final the monistic postulates of his race which 
assumed that the individual mind had the same destiny as matter, and 
was not swerved from it by any antithesis between sense and reason, 
or between the sensible and supersensible worlds, any more than were 
the materialists. But. on the other hand, he assigned an ethical value 
to the intellectual functions of " experience " or to all the higher forms 
of consciousness without discovering that it might point to a meta- 
physical theory inconsistent with, or at least quite different from, the 
conception that the soul was onlv a refined form of matter with char- 



SPIRITUALISM. 417 

acteristics that associated its action and destiny with all organisms of 
whatever sort. Between the two conceptions he remained indeter- 
minate, now tending toward one and now toward the other with no 
final decision of character, and the many-sided convergence in him of 
all Greek thought had to diverge into later schools to discover the 
potentialities of his complicated conceptions. Hence the real or ap- 
parent contradictions of his system. There were many things in his 
doctrine that connected him with later Christian thought, both in 
forms of expression and in the moral purity of his ideas. But in real- 
ity this connection is often more formal than material, when carefully 
examined, and consequently his spiritualistic metaphysics can receive 
that name only with the qualification that the spiritual consists of the 
intellectual refinements of art and culture rather than the brutalities of 
sense and passion. 

It is impossible to understand Plato's position without some expo- 
sition of what it was in his own terms, with a complete translation of 
it into the terms and conceptions of later thought. His fundamental 
conception was a union of the Eleatic and Heraclitic philosophies, and 
began with a denial of the Sophistic doctrine of the relativity of all 
knowledge while admitting this of sense. He started from the anthro- 
pocentric point of view with a psychology that based the origin of all 
knowledge from two separate sources, sense perception and reason, 
and for each of these he had a corresponding object. The object of 
sense was change or "phenomena," the Heraclitic flux; the object of 
"reason" was the "real" or the permanent, the Eleatic "being." 
The antithesis between sense perception and intellectual intuition was 
parallel with the antithesis between the sensible world of change and 
the supersensible world of the permanent and eternal. The objects of 
sense were called " phenomena " : the objects of reason were called 
" ideas." With this machinery at his cominand there began a philo- 
sophic play with the facts of the cosmic and human order which has 
no equal in the annals of thought, for the combined interests of litera- 
ture, science, ethics, politics and metaphysics. Nothing but a trans- 
lation of its flights into modern terms will make it intelligible. 

With Plato the term " idea " was the open sesame for all philo- 
sophic problems. It did duty for at least five distinct things: (i) 
abstract general concepts; (3) the conferential or universal qualities 
of tilings which correspond to these concepts ; (3) substance or reality 
which was the subject of these attributes or qualities; (4) the good or 
Ideal ends of conduct; (5) the formative or active principle in the 
production of the cosmic order of things, which, with the doctrine that 
27 



41 S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Tiniversal qualities were the "essence" of reality, did not distinguish 
between the efficient and material cause of what was intellectually seen 
in the sensible world. iV conception so rich in content as this and 
comprehending such widelv different facts and realities was sure to 
give trouble when any of the concrete problems of thought were 
brought to it for explanation. The "idea" was the permanent and 
sensation w^as the transient, as also was the latter's object. Applied 
to the soul the question of its permanence would depend first upon its 
place in this scheme. If it was a sensible "phenomenon" it was 
transient; if it was a supersensible fact it was permanent. But even 
after this latter question was decided there was still the more important 
issue to be determined, namely, whether this permanence represented 
the conception which modern life takes of it when speaking of the 
immortality of the soul. This permanent reality of Plato, when care- 
fully defined, turned out to be in one of its widest and most important 
applications, namely, nothingbutthe ^^w/fer^a/ properties of objects, the 
common qualities which enabled us to classify them in kind and not to 
predetermine their destiny, as this destiny was predetermined bv the 
atoms of the materialists, these being realities which were individual 
and having some determinate qualities that persisted through all their 
changes. But Plato's permanent or " idea" was not individual as the 
atoms were conceived, except in one case, but was a mode or qualitv of 
things representing the metamorphosis of some ultimate realitv into the 
" phenomenal " world of sense without altering its essential identitv, 
and hence was not the result of composition among a number of unities 
independent of each other. Consequenth- the conception of individu- 
ality wdth Plato represented the transient or ephemeral and not the 
eternal unities represented by the atoms. His permanent, the uni- 
versal, conceived as a mode of realitv was the transfused identitv of 
species that were forever changing, appearing and disappearing, with 
such similarity as would show the persistence of the same kind of 
material in the metamorphoses and creations of nature, but this per- 
manence of the universal qualities "was not the fixed permanence of the 
substance of the atomists as a unitarv reality, but the permanence of a 
material " essence " which had lost its previous individuality in each in- 
carnation. The difficulty wnth Plato lav In his simple classification of 
reality into the accidental or individual and the necessary or universal 
without taking account of the further and important distinction between 
simple substance and its permanent attributes, on the one hand, and 
between composite reality and Its resultant " phenomenal " attributes 
■ or modes, on the other. This was clear to the materialists who also 



SPIRITUALISM. 419 

simplified the whole problem by reducing it to a question of " matter" 
and "form," inverting the uses of these terms in Plato. This was 
first done by Aristotle who employed "matter" to denote, not the 
sensible world merely, but the stuff or substance out of which the 
sensible world was made and "form" for the mode in which it was 
made. In this he simplified the Platonic conception and removed its 
confusion. With Plato " matter" was the transient fact, the sensible 
world of "phenomenal" forms which represented the materialist's 
complex wholes, and the " idea" or form was the permanent fact or 
reality, the "essence" of things, a conception which was taken to 
denote indifferently the substance which constituted the object and the 
quality which determined its nature in comparison with others and 
distinguished the conferential from the differential qualities of the indi- 
vidual, the last being the evanescent fact of existence. Thus the 
tmiversal properties and the substance of things were the same, so that 
the " material" and " formal " causes were identical in the conception 
of Plato, and when we observe also that he attributed to this ' ' formal " 
cause, the "idea," the formative or active power of determining the 
transition from the supersensible to the sensible condition, the evolu- 
tionary metamorphosis or change from one form of reality to another, 
we discover a very complex problem before us in estimating the phi- 
losophy of Plato at large and in understanding exactly what he meant 
by the immortality of the soul, if it is anything more than the persist- 
ence of force. A term which does not distinguish between substance 
and attribute for our way of thinking will not make clear the distinc- 
tion between the permanence of the substance with the "phenomenal " 
and transient character of sensible properties, and the persistence of a 
property or mode of action through all the changes and transforma- 
tions of the substance. This is indispensable to modern thought which 
accepts the " phenomenal " nature of organisms and the " noumenal " 
or substantive nature of the elements that compose them, and wants to 
know what properties or functions remain to the elements after their 
separation from a given relation or synthesis in time and space. As- 
suming that certain properties are the resultant of organization, it 
concedes their ephemeral character as a consequence, but assumes 
their persistence if the subject of them is not dissolved with the decom- 
position of the organism, a conception granted in the very notion of 
the atoms. Whatever conception of the case Plato may have had, he 
did not present it in a way to suggest any such view of persistence as 
is here indicated. He was aware that it was the simple that was 
imperishable, but in his appeal for evidence he chose the point of view 



420 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of universal qualities which described the identity of coexistent and 
successive species without necessarily implying the identity of the 
individual and hence its permanence, when defined, became merely 
the permanent likeness of kind, not the permanence of the same 
quality in an individual in spite of its separation from a given synthesis. 
Plato was dealing with a process of evolution, a process which he 
conceived as the metamorphosis of a plastic reality into evanescent 
forms, after the doctrine of Heraclitus, and not as the combination of 
atomic elements with the appearance of qualities as incidents of that 
composition, though he spoke and thought of the simple and com- 
pound in sympathy with an atomic theory without perceiving any real 
or apparent inconsistency with his primary view, and hence in his 
conception of the process as a transition, chameleon or Protean like, 
from one condition to another of a permanent substance, instead of 
original resultants of changing combinations, he could never decide 
clearly between a doctrine of metempsychosis and a doctrine of crea- 
tion^ if I may distinguish in this way between the modal modifications of 
a single reality and the modal resultant of a multiple of realities. Plato 
and Epicurus agreed in the permanent identity of substance and they 
agreed in the " phenomenal " nature of the individual or differential 
facts of existence. But they differed in their conception of what this 
substance was, Plato thinking it one and Epicurus thinking it many. 
Plato was uno-monistic, Epicurus was pluro-monistic. The appear- 
ance of individual or differential qualities in Plato \vas conceived as a 
inodal change of the same substance ; in Epicurus it was a modal 
change due to the union of di'^erent^ though similar, substances. 
With Plato there was no chance for the persistence of the individual 
quality, but only of the identity in kind of the separate states in which 
reality found itself ; with Epicurus there was a chance for persistence 
of some one or more qualities, while those incidental to union ^vere 
transient. Applied to consciousness, Plato's doctrine could only main- 
tain Its identity in kind between different individuals in either space or 
time, but not the persistence of the individual, which was only a 
" moment" in the process of metempsychosis; ^vith Epicurus, unless 
it was made an inherent function of the atom, which it was not. it 
could only be a " moment " in the union of elements, which were per- 
sistent without it. To put the same thought in Aristotelian terms 
which represent modern ways of expression more nearly than Plato, 
the permanent substance was a plastic niatter capable of indefinite 
modification and could be made to assume an}' form desired by the 
creative master or causal principle. Hence the identity or perma- 



SPIRITUALISM. 421 

nence was in this plastic substance and not of the individual types into 
which it was evolved, except that there could be an identity of kind 
without a persistence of the differential " essence" of the individual, a 
point quite in agreement with the materialists who had only to make 
consciousness a " differential essence " or accident of union to accept 
the doctrine of Plato. With Plato the "material" or constitutive 
element was permanent and this, the " idea" or "form," was trans- 
mitted from individual to individual, while the functional variant, the 
Ileraclitean modal change, or " phenomenal matter " of the sensible 
world, itself the individual, was ephemeral. But by taking " matter" 
to represent the substance of both the sensible and supersensible, the 
"phenomenal" and the " noumenal " w^orlds, and the "idea" or 
"form" to represent the modal differentiations of the primitive sub- 
stance into the types of the "phenomenal" world, we find that the 
Platonic permanence meant only the constant reappearance of the same 
species, not the continuance of the individual. 

Plato approached the problem of existence from two points of view 
which he never completely reconciled and perhaps could not easily 
have reconciled in his time, if he had tried. He saw both the facts 
of change and the facts of permanence and he emphasized only the 
principle of identity in the explanation of all things, that is, the 
principle of material cause, though he resorted to efficient causes at 
one or two points without working out this new principle even to 
account for the fact of change, which was the one that ought to have 
attracted his scientific and philosophic interest. His primary method, 
the application of the principle of identity, which he tmderstood better 
than any other principle of philosophy, was that of observing the 
actual unit}' of things in which he found a hierarchy of types reducible 
to logical classification. He saw that objects could be classified by 
their properties into genera and species, and these reduced to the 
su97iJ7i7cm genus and the infima species. The former was repre- 
sented by '''•being" or the universal, which was regarded as "one," a 
conception which did not distinguish between mathematical unity or 
singleness and logical identity or similarity of kind which involved 
mathematical plurality of individuals. The latter were the individuals 
that made up the real objects of the sensible world, these being con- 
ceived In an equivocal manner, now as constituted by a synthesis of 
conferential and differential, or universal and accidental qualities, and 
now as a differential accident, a " phenomenal " change, attached to a 
permanent supersensible reality, evidentially indicated by its identical 
modes in the transmutations of species. Of this again. The "ideas" 



422 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

or " forms" were the common properties, the conferential or universal 
qualities of things, and the differential constituted the individual or par- 
ticular qualities. But his chief interest lay in the common or universal 
qualities which he could describe as the " essence" of reality on the 
assumption that they represented the perdurable in the cosmic evolution, 
that is, the identical element in change while that which changed was 
individual and transient. He supposed that the " ideas " or universal 
qualities were all evolved from an ultimate reality, being, which stood 
as the one reality or " substance " capable of giving rise materially to all 
that was found in the individvials except the evanescent, that is, the 
conferential qualities which showed a perdurable " essence " making 
them the same in kind either coexistently in space or successively in time. 
Thus, to take an illustration, elms and oaks are each a species of tree. 
Elms and oaks have certain differential properties \vhich do not belong 
to all trees and which distinguish each from the other. In fact, we 
might say that the real meaning of the terms is the differences which 
make the term tree incapable of indicating all that is meant by either 
term. These differentiae are the individual, transient, or accidental 
qualities, in Platonic parlance, which, if the case is an individual in 
the proper sense of the term, can never be repeated. But the common 
properties which are expressed by the term tree do not represent 
for Plato merely a quality of the species but also the material which 
existed and may exist independently of the species or Individual in 
which they are found. It does not mean that there is an independent 
individual tree, apart from oaks and elms, which forms their character, 
but a material which is drawn upon and is permanently of the kind to 
determine their similarity and unit}^ Here is found Plato's close 
affiliation with the atomic doctrine which was only another form of 
the general Greek conception that all things were formed out of 
"stuff" or material causes. The universal properties were from 
eternal " stuff," the accidental properties from transient material. 
We should say that ' ' tree " is an abstract term not representing any 
other reality than a modal one, a quality of the individual subject or 
organism in which it appeared. But Plato seeing that there was a 
resemblance in kind between coexistent and sequent species and 
individuals sought a material cause for this identity and persistent 
fact, and not using efficient causes to account for any thing like a 
quality and not being able to explain the contingent and evanescent 
"phenomena" materially, had to treat them as transient. But the 
universal qualities were constituted out of preexistent and post- 
existential material, in which they participated as a " substance" or 



SPIRITUALISM. 423 

" essence " out of which they were made. They are supersensible reali- 
ties, though there is sensible evidence of them. But here Plato meets 
a fundamental difficulty. He has to recognize the evidence in the 
sensible for that which is supposed to survive the sensible, and when 
this evidence is produced it is the identity in kind of the two sensible 
individuals, and this identity is the basis of what persists through the 
changes or transmutations of species, so that after all some sort of 
identity between the sensible and the supersensible is assumed, and 
this apparently contradicts the assumption of an antithesis between 
them. This would explain Aristotle's accusation against the Platonic 
"ideas" that they simply "eternalized the things of sense" when they 
should have recognized the antithesis which the main principle of his 
philosophy represented. Aristotle clarified the matter by frankly rep- 
resenting the " ideas" or "forms" as sensible properties along with 
the Platonic "matter" or contingent and differential qualities, and by 
extending the term " matter " to express the supersensible reality or sub- 
stance whose evolution produced both the transient and the permanent, 
or the accidental and universal qualities, the difference between the 
two being one of relative permanence or relative transiency. Plato 
seems to have been governed by assumptions analogous to that of 
Anaxagoras whose homoiomeri£e, supersensible realities or atoms, 
I'epresented the material source from which the qualities of the sensi- 
ble world were drawn. The qualitative identities and differences 
were due to the fact, that the respective qualities were found in the 
original elements forming the composition, and variations in the 
totalities w'ere due to variations in the numerical character of the 
units composing the wholes. But Plato abandoned the conception of 
a union of this kind while he retained the idea that the identity of kind 
in the sensible w'orld was deducible from an identity or persistence of 
the same material in the supersensible world. In other words he sub- 
stituted transition from the supersensible to the sensible for elemental 
composition and holds to an identity in the process in spite of the fact 
of change. Plato considered that this substance which gave unity and 
permanence to reality was more essential than other things and hence 
he had a ground for a kind of unity w'hich was not so apparent in the 
conception of Anaxagoras wdio explained the order of the cosmos by 
his efiicient cause and its variety by the qualitative differences of the 
elements, these being a material cause. But w'hile he also had a ma- 
terial cause for all the qualitative characteristics of the sensible world, 
he had no principle which exhibited the kind of unity and identity 
which so fascinated the mind of Plato. With Anaxagoras the unity 



424 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

was rather teleological than ontological, and hence material causes 
were incidental to the efficient. With Plato the ontological cause was 
the most important and the efficient in the end identified with it. Now 
the " ideas" of Plato supplied the want and served as both the efficient 
and the material cause for things, thus bringing Plato into close har- 
mony with the atomists in his exclusion of a deiis ex jnac/iina from 
his system. 

But it is precisel}- this failure to distinguish adequately or con- 
sciously between efficient and material causes that creates the trouble in 
his system when it comes to dealing with the problem of immortality, 
or the permanence of any fact conceived as a property of things, as 
known. The "phenomenal" required a cause and could not have a 
" material" cause or " idea" and ought to have had an efficient cause 
to make its appearance intelligible, while the permanent involved no 
distinction between the two kinds of causes and implied no essential 
change in its manifold forms, though we sometimes suspect a fluctuat- 
ing conception now of identity and now of antithesis between the 
supersensible and the sensible condition of the "ideas" or material 
causes of the " individual" realities. The inconsistency here and the 
failure to account for the "individual" or "phenomenal" reality bv 
material causes suggests the possibility of either seeking a material cause 
for this or demanding that the universal shall have an efficient cause 
which might indicate an antithesis between it and its subject as was 
that between the " phenomenal" and the reality of which it was an 
effect. But Plato took the former alternative, as we shall see presenth', 
and thus showed clearly the logical tendency of his system. This was 
the conception of metamorphosis which assumes a change of modal 
action on the part of the real rather than the persistence of the condi- 
tion or subject in change. With Plato the subject disappeared while 
the attribute remained without retaining any identity of an individual 
kind. Its identit}' was general and abstract. His process of evolution 
involved a metamorphosis of reality into " phenomenal " forms and 
the identity was that of resemblance in these forms from generation to 
generation, so that the permanence was not that of the individual but 
of the type or race. He might consider consciousness as an " idea " 
or universal and secure its immortality, but this immortality was not 
and would not be of the individual consciousness as later conceived, 
but would only be that of the persistence of type or of the supersensible 
reality which metamorphosed itself into the ephemeral forms. His 
conception would be somewhat like T. H. Green's " eternal con- 
sciousness," which, when it was defined, had to be described in terms 



SPIRITUALISM. 425 

that were the negative of the individual consciousness ! Had it not 
been for the conception of metamorphosis involved in the passage from 
the supersensible to the sensible form of reality, even when he was 
dealing with universals, the notion of identity might have been differ- 
ent from what it actually was. But Plato was unconsciously playing 
a double game with his universals, the common properties of things. 
On the one hand, they were contrasted with the individual or differen- 
tial properties which were accidental and evanescent, and so were the 
perdurable facts of existence, and, on the other, they appeared as sensi- 
ble properties quite similar to each other in relation to the complex 
wholes in which they were found, tlie idea of metamorphosis being 
used to suggest their continuance in change v\^hile that idea was not 
tised to explain the " phenomenal," except as will be shown presently. 
Thus the opposition between the individual and the universal, the 
differential and the conferential, was not made complete, but kept in 
that confusing condition which is shown in modern logic in the use of 
the terms "genus" and "species," on the one hand, and "genus" 
and "differentia," on the other. In one of the pairs, "genus" 
includes the other, " species," and in the second, it excludes the other, 
" differentia." Now as " differentia " is included in the species as its 
essential characteristic, we have the apparent contradiction that the 
'• ' genus " simultaneously includes and excludes the " differentia." The 
illusion is explained easily by showing that in one case " genus " repre- 
sents the concept extensively^ in which the " species" is numerically 
or quantitatively contained in the class, and in the other represents the 
concept intensively^ in which the "differentia" is excluded quali- 
tatively from the conferentla. Now Plato's " ideas " or universals 
fluctuated between two conceptions of them, now Including the sensi- 
ble properties which shared, " participated," in the reality which was 
metamorphosed in the process of evolution, and now excluding the 
sensible properties which were evanescent and did not "participate" 
in the permanent. In other w^ords, the universals were now con- 
ceived as sensible properties of the Individual on a par with the differ- 
entiae as properties, and now as the permanent realities which survived 
the disappearance of the sensible forms without retaining any of the 
Identity observable in sense except as this reappeared in subsequent 
forms of the process of metamorphosis. Consequently, when Plato 
conceived any "Idea" as a universal property he represented it, not 
as a permanent thing for the individual In which it appeared for the 
time and which was ephemeral, but as a permanent substance from 
which this material quality could be drawn for other individuals in 



426 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

space and time and which had to change its form in the process of 
evohition, while the sensible qualities appearing as conferential could 
only " participate " in this permanent and hence no individual manifes- 
tation of it exhausted its nature. When applied to consciousness this 
conception of persistence could only mean the persistence of the gen- 
eral or abstract consciousness for the race, and not the persistence of 
what we mean by the individual consciousness, or personal identity. 

There is another way to reach the same conclusion and this is 
through his conception of "matter," which we have seen represents 
the transient or ephemeral as embodied in the sensible world. The 
sensible world was the metamorphosis of the supersensible, the "ap- 
pearance " of the transcendental or transphenomenal in forms which 
simply " particijjated " in reality. Now in his determination of the 
unity and identity of things about him by his logical classification, 
Plato was confronted by the fact of variety and difference quite as 
emphatic and significant as the unity and harmony of the world. 
This is the crux of his system, and unless he can solve this he has a 
dualism that contradicts the evident monistic sympathies of his general 
thought. For everything else he had a inaterial cause, a permanent 
identical reality which survived all change. But this transient world 
of sense disappeared and apparently had no material cause to explain 
its existence, but only a latent and undeveloped recognition of efficient 
cause which had no permanence. But the fact is that Plato gave as 
clear an explanation of difference as of identity, though he did it as a 
sort of after thought and without any specific recognition of efficient 
cause as distinct from material causes. All scholars will remark that, 
when pushed to account for "matter," variety, difference, or "phe- 
nomenal " change on the basis of his principle, Plato finally asserted 
that " matter" had an "idea" of its own. This conclusion involved 
an irresolvable dualism in his system opposed to its monism, but it 
was the only course that he could take without admitting efficient 
catises as distinct from the material. But this admission of a material 
cause, or " idea" of its own, for "matter" or difference and variety 
in nature, assvimed something indefinite or even infinite in quantity at 
the basis of " phenomenal " reality, while the supreme " idea," being, 
which lay at the basis of all unity and identity was one. The contra- 
diction in his system is thus quite apparent. But it is not a contradic- 
tion on the ground that it is an explanation of " matter " by a material 
cause, but because it is an admission of an eternal principle at the 
basis of change. In its application of the principle of material caus- 
ality, even to " phenomena," it was consistent enough, but the incon- 



SPIRITUALISM. 427 

sistency lay in the recognition. o£ an eternal or permanent where his 
original conception excluded it. The original antithesis between the 
transient and the permanent, the " phenomenal " and the " noumenal," 
"matter" and "idea," implied that the former had no substantive 
basis, and that the only permanent reality was that which constituted 
the universal qualities in changing individuals, while he was left to 
explain difference or "phenomenal" change either as the atomists 
did, namely, as the contingent effect of a union of elements, no matter 
what conception of the elements was maintained, or as a sort of epi- 
phenomenon attached to the main current of the evolutionary process. 
But having set up a permanent basis for the " phenomenal " as well as 
the universal properties of things, he simply had to choose between an 
unintelligible dualism and a monism which treated both the confer- 
ential and the differential facts of existence as functions of the indi- 
vidual, both of them as modes which permitted the disappearance of the 
form while the substance remained persistent. As he admitted meta- 
morphosis for the universal properties and this doctrine of an " idea" 
or substantive material cause at the basis of "phenomena" permits the 
same conception to be applied to differences, the only way to get any 
unity in the system is to assume that the only real difference between 
" matter " and " ideas," or between the " phenomenal " and the perma- 
nent, is the possibility of reappearance or repetition in the one and 
the impossibility of the appearance of the other, a position which could 
only be proved by the facts and not by any principle of the system. 
When difference and change had an eternal principle which was not 
identical either with the permanent or with the individual as a whole, 
there was only one course open to secure unity in the system and that 
was the course taken by Aristotle, who assumed that both the tran- 
sient and the permanent were modes of substance, which he conceived 
as monistic, while the atomists assumed the same relation between 
attributes while they substituted pluralism for dualism, Plato tending- 
toward the latter by virtue of his "idea" for difference. But the 
moment that he suggested an eternal principle for change and admitted 
metamorphosis or "phenomenal" change for sensible universals he 
exhibited in all its clearness the fact that there was no mate^-ial dif- 
ference between the transient and the permanent and the identity so 
strongly affirmed of the permanent in its transmutations was not that 
of the individual but only of the genus. As applied to consciousness 
or the soul this only meant the immutability of the type, and not of 
personal identity. 

This conclusion Is again reinforced logically when we come to con- 



428 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sidcr that in the Phitonic system all intermediate species between the 
su??imum ge7tus and the injijua species had to be distinguished by 
properties that were relatively either differentia; or conferentiae, as we 
please. As differentiae they had no absolute permanence, and they were 
conferentiae only for the species in which they were found while they 
were differentiae for the genus or higher species. The consequence was 
that the system had to be tested by the conceptions at the basis of the 
two extremes, the suniTnum genus and the infijna species., the former 
representing being., or one universal, and the latter individuals, or 
many. This involved the supposition that all individuals were the 
metamorphosed types of the one ultimate realit}^, the emergence in the 
sensible of one supersensible reality, the differences and " phenomenal " 
modes predominating numerically over the permanent. In this every- 
thing but the one became evanescent. To this only one predicate Avas 
applicable, and that was " being" or existence, and as the individual 
was wholly sensible, in spite of its relative universals, nothing in it 
survived but substance. All its modes were changeable, though there 
were relative degrees of permanence between them. 

In this opposition between "the one " and "the many" it \vas 
only a question as to which of the two should be declared substance and 
which mode. The atomists seized ujDon multiplicitv to assert that it 
was this which was permanent and substantial, making the atom the 
conception of individuality, and that the universal was a modal quality 
of things, transient in composite forms and permanent in elementary 
realities whei'e it was not a resultant of composition. On the other 
hand, the Neo-Platonists seized upon unity to declare that onlv the 
absolute or one universal was eternal and the individual, a modal 
change in it, was transient and evanescent. Thus Plato's complicated 
system was capable of development into two opposite schools in neither 
of which was consciousness a permanent fact. In both nothing but 
the substance of the " soul" was permanent, and at no point was the 
universal and the individual united in a way to preserve the permanence 
of the latter with the permanence of the former, until the individual 
was made ^simple being instead of composite, and "phenomenal" 
change denied of it, except as modal action. The atomists assumed 
that weight and motion were the universal and permanent properties 
of their elementary substances, and made consciousness a contingent 
and accidental property of composition, so that it was evanescent. 
Any system which showed that consciousness was not a resultant of 
organization, whatever might be said about atoms, prepared the way 
to dispute the inference which atomism draws regarding consciousness 



SPIRITUALISM. 429 

and its disappearance with the body. We shall meet with this con- 
ception of the case later in the reconstruction of the philosophic prob- 
lem. But Plato could not propose it with his doctrine of metamorpho- 
sis which applied equally to the transient and the permanent, whether 
he was dualistic or monistic, and which allowed no individual identity 
for vuiiversal modes and no universal identity in modal changes. 

But side by side with Plato's doctrine of metamorphosis existed 
another conception which was not exactly consonant with it and which 
tended toward a different philosophic system. This reappearance in 
other successive individuals of the same kind of properties as were 
noticed in their antecedent individuals suggests a point of view quite 
different from that of simple metamorphosis. In the first place, he 
needed to distinguish betv/een the spatial and the temporal "univer- 
sal." The spatial "universal" was similar qualities in coexistent 
species, and so represented in their substantive source different parts 
of the same whole. The temporal " universal" was similar qualities 
in successive species, but represented the same part of the same whole 
in different stages of its evolution. If the temporal " universal" had 
represented different parts of the same whole appearing at different 
moments of time, even though they were similar in kind, the disap- 
pearance of the individual would have been no mystery and there 
would have been no reason to suppose the continuance of even the 
universal by any form of transmission to successive individuals of the 
material which had constituted their antecedents, but only the appear- 
ance of " phenomena " similar to the past process of evolution. Now 
Plato assumed this latter conception of the case while he assumed the 
former idea of the temporal " universal." He had a chance to main- 
tain the persistence of personal identity by supposing that the trans- 
mitted property from one individual in time to another was the same as 
in the antecedent, and hence to maintain the doctrine of metempsychosis 
in a form similar to a theory of resurrection, allowing identity of modal 
action with change of embodiment, as in the transmission of motion. 
The atomists might have done this if they had admitted that conscious- 
ness was a function of the elements and not a resultant of composition, 
as we find some of the modern atomists actually forced by their logic 
to do. But they and Plato were near enough together in their con- 
ceptions of the case to make consciousness an accident of composition 
while its identity in different species was logical and not real. With 
Plato the transmission of the permanent from individual to individual 
was too closely affiliated with the conception of metamorphosis at the 
same time to enable him to see how he might have advocated a doc- 



43° ^'^-^^' PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

trine of immortality which would not be suljject to the objection that 
it involved nothing more than the immutability of species. He simply 
combined the conceptions of metamorphosis and transmission in a way 
to obtain change at the expense of identity and identity at the expense 
of individual permanence where that individual was not the absolute. 
It is possible to unite transmission and metamorphosis in a y\'ay to 
admit a function for both, as modern atomism does, but Plato allowed 
the transmission and metamorphosis to be simultaneously applied to 
the " universal " when his doctrine of transmigration required him to 
apply transmission to the "universal" and metamorphosis to the 
^'individual." But as his ultimate principle was both " universal " 
and " individual," that is, permanent substance and mathematically 
one, this unity of the "universal" and the " individual" was not the 
same as that system which made the individual a substance and the 
" universal " a quality of it. Consequently, while one conception of 
Plato might imply the continuance of certain j^roperties beyond the 
moment of the present, the other denied it, and Plato chose the alter- 
native which led directly to the denial of personal identity in the trans- 
mutation of reality while an abstract identity remained. 

Had Plato's " idea" been less abstract, less elastic and equivocal, so 
many tendencies in his system would not have shown themselves. 
But a term which did duty for abstract general concepts \yhicli had no 
corresponding individual reality ; for the qualities of "phenomenal" 
reality which were mere simulacra of absolute reality ; for the super- 
sensible material out of which the essential qualities of things were 
made and wdiich was not " phenomenal" at all; for the formative or 
active principle of things as well as the material ; and for the termi7i7is 
a quo or end of either things or conduct, the telos toward which evo- 
lution moved — such a conception was well qualified to give rise to as 
many S3-stems of metaphysics as there are distinctions necessary to 
make its import consistent and useful. This, of course, was what 
subsequent philosophy did in various ways. Aristotle simply extended 
to the supersensible the concept of " matter," which even in Plato, as 
^ve have seen, had to have ari eternal principle, and accepting evolu- 
tionary metamorphosis as the process of change, and the modal char- 
acter of universal properties, considered individual wholes as the 
" forms" of this ultimate reality in its activities. The material cause 
was not the " ideas " but the " matter," the indefinite substance whose 
modes constituted the forms of things as we perceive them in sensible 
experience, these latter being the transient and the former the per- 
manent fact of reality. The conception was not clearly applied or 



SPIRITUALISM. 431 

developed in connection with such prolDlems as the soul, though the 
rational element of this was said to be imperishable. What this 
meant no one knows. All that is clear is that Aristotle had no definite 
tendencies toward- the atomic doctrine in its conception of plural abso- 
lutes, though his concejDtlon of universals prepared the way for the 
treatment of them as ephemeral, just as in the atomic theory. But 
there was an indefinite or latent suggestion of an atomic doctrine in 
his system in that the matter or indefinite reality which constituted the 
material cause of the sensible world depended upon some efl^cient 
cause to effect its initiation in cosmic evolution and systematic arrange- 
ment, so that this primum mobile as a cause outside the reality, which 
it moved, started the speculative impulse away from the idea of 
evolutionary metamorphosis toward that of evolutionary composition, or 
the synthesis of multiform elements instead of modal manifestations 
of a single absolute, and atomic theories are the immediate consequence, 
especially that the prinmm mobile is not necessary to sustain the pro- 
cess once initiated. Plato's view of " one and the many" led equally 
to Epicurean atomism, Neo-Platonic pantheism and Christian theism. 
Taking the Anaxagorean conception he could have a single principle 
that ordered a cosmos of elements that were permanent, a point of view 
at least partly reproduced in Aristotle's primum mobile and the sen- 
sible world. Then assuming that the "one" was the only eternal 
principle he could make the ' ' many " its transient and ephemeral 
modes, as in Neo-Platonism. Closely related to this and yet uniting 
in it some of the elements of the atomic theory we could have the 
Christian's God as creator of the " many," whether atoms or functional 
inodes, a conception combining more or less of the Anaxagorean, 
Aristotelian, and Epicurean principles. The persistence of conscious- 
ness could be obtained either as a conditional resultant of the divine 
will or as the natural consequence of an order once established by that 
will, in accordance with the law of inertia. 

I have dwelt upon the various tendencies after Plato to show the 
indeterminate nature of his fundamental conceptions and to indicate 
that those who were nearest him were less likely to misunderstand his 
conceptions than those who had adopted a philosophy of the soul and 
its immortality upon different grounds, and who were likely to appro- 
priate facts and affirmative language wherever the influence of author- 
ity could be utilized without troubling themselves to interpret it 
according to conceptions actually at variance with their way of think- 
ing about the cosmos. That is, the historical setting of the Platonic 
problem and the nature of his arguments and conception of the soul 



432 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

are easily misunderstood by all who do not interpret them by the gen- 
eral sjDirit and conceptions of Greek philosophy instead of the very 
different points of view accepted in a later period. The practical 
evasion of the problem by Aristotle, the obscurity of the Stoic view, 
and the denial of immortality by the Epicureans show that Plato's 
position had not 'affected conceptions and convictions to any extent, 
except we suppose that successors understood it to mean what it did 
mean, namely, a doctrine something like our doctrine of the conserva- 
tion of energy. 

I shall not deny the existence in Plato of " momenta " looking toward 
the very doctrine which is not logically deducible from the conceptions 
W'hich philosophers have agreed to regard as more fundamental in the 
system than those which either suggest or sustain the Christian theory. 
The description of the jovs and perfections belonging to an existence 
independent of the body, the consequences of vice and the rewards of 
virtue, and all those various conceptions of ethics which represented 
moral conduct as pointing to a future existence for which the present 
was conceived as a probation, quite as definitely as Christian thought, 
are characteristics which make it almost impossible for a layman to 
distinguish betw^een Plato and Christianitv in these respects, and it is 
quite possible also that Plato did not realize the inconsequence of his 
conceptions and arguments for a view actually held but not supportable 
by his philosophy. But it was certainlv natural for the early church 
to make an exception of Plato in the common fate which was assigned 
to the pagan world. We forget two things, however, in our enthusiasm 
and applause for the orthodoxy of Plato. There is first the fact that he 
does not look upon the ethics of the incarnate life as in anyway differ- 
ent from that wdiich is supposed to prepare for the future. He would 
not distinguish between morality and religion. He was not disposed 
to regulate the present life bv any definite conception of the hereafter, 
but solely by the demands of the present existence for the highest cul- 
ture. He loved life and nature, as the Christian despised them. He 
was no despiser of art and social life, no ascetic beyond the demands 
of temperance, and self-control. Plis ethics and religion, whatever 
place they have in preparation for another existence, are essentially 
terrestrial and do not savor of imaginarv ideals in some transcendental 
world not intelligible to us. They keep the eye of conscience on the 
present life, though they do not refuse another, and grant this other 
life as a natural consequence of the present. But above all we forget 
the second fact that this other life was conceived as a reincarnation, a 
transmigration of the soul into another embodiment, while he also 



SPIRITUALISM. 433 

extends this doctrine of reincarnation to the interpretation of the present 
bodily existence. He does not hold that the soul is permanent or 
immortal by virtue of the will of a creator, but that it is naturally 
immortal, in the past as well as the future. He accepts its eternity 
in both directions. He would not admit a future life for any created 
thing. Christianity was forced to construct its conception of the case 
by its doctrine of the created nature of the body and soul. Having 
admitted that they were creations it had to shape its philosophy so that 
the soul should not perish, and it took two directions in this. The 
first was what is called conditional immortality, depending solely upon 
the will of the creator in accordance with the character of the individ- 
ual's conduct. The second was accepted upon the Aristotelian con- 
ception of creation, which was that an act of initiation was necessary 
to account for the existing order and that after this its course was 
natural, and this position was supported by the doctrine of inertia. 
But Plato assumed that whatever had a beginning would have an end 
and thus agreed with the materialists. All composites were perishable 
and ephemeral. Plato could understand immortality only on the con- 
dition that it applied to the past as well as the future. But right at 
this point arises the crux of his whole doctrine on this question. He 
admitted that there was no conscious memory of this past, and it was 
evidently the unanswerable cogency of this fact which forced Christian- 
ity to reconcile its conception of survival with the acceptance of an 
origin for the soul. But as Plato could not affirm a consciousness of a 
past incarnation he had to assume that the same was true of future 
reincarnations, and in this way his doctrine denied a personal immor- 
tality in quite as effective a manner as his theorv of " ideas" or uni- 
versals. The transmigration of the soul from embodiment to embodi- 
ment did not carry with it that essential characteristic which would 
give continuity to consciousness, but assumed that this function was a 
contingent effect of its incarnation, a view identical with that of the 
materialists, except that Plato had provided for the conservation of 
energy as the materialist had not done. It is probable that Plato 
accepted pei'sonal immortality when he wrote the A-poIogy under the 
stress of those powerful emotions which the admiration of all great 
and noble men must feel in contemplation of the character and death 
of Socrates. But when these had cooled and his philosophic genius 
had returned to the more scientific spirit, he came under the influence 
of the prevailing conceptions of permanence and change which made 
substance eternal and its modes ephemeral. In spite of all that is said, 
therefore, the Platonic conception of the " soul " is that of a function 

2S 



434 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of the organism, in so far as its differential essence is concerned, and 
this is personal consciousness involving memory and unity of modal 
persistence. Unless this characteristic can survive with integrity 
enough to have some conscious relation and connection with its past 
in the material world there is no such " soul" and no such immortal- 
ity as later speculation maintained. 

There was another and singular feature of Plato's svstem which 
pointed in his estimation toward the discovery of the truth in regard 
to nature, the truth that the sensible world was not its real and only 
form. Plato recognized that it was not the common man that could 
discover the nature of things. It was only the extraordinary man, the 
man with special gifts, the seer, the prophet, the genius, that could 
gain entrance into the secrets of the vmiverse, or discover and follow 
Ariadne's thread out of the labyrinth, and in assigning these endow- 
ments to the philosopher Plato was not unmindful of the reputation 
which that class had with the generality of mankind. Greek historv 
laughed at Thales for falling into a well while gazing at the stars and 
meant by this legend to characterize the philosophic class as impracti- 
cal cranks. Plato could not escape the consideration of a man like 
Socrates in making up the conditions of insight. Here was an Athen- 
ian bore and a tramp, out of all harmony with the beauty -loving Greeks 
in his physical characteristics and habits, pestering his neighbors and 
fellow citizens with questions and arguments on all sorts of subjects 
and in a way that would induce our less tolerant civilization to arrest 
him and send him to the woodvard, but with a power of insight and 
dialectic that could confuse wit and humble pride as much as it dis- 
cerned the truth without asserting it. Here Plato saw that the man 
who discovered the truth must be sufficiently divested of the prejudices, 
foibles, fads, and follies of his age to disregard them in his estimate of 
reality, and must permit himself to be ranked with the castaways of 
mankind, if he expected to escape the petrified traditions and illusions 
of the common man. Plence Plato thought to find the conditions of 
the most far-reaching insight in some form of " madness " or abnormal 
mental qualifications. Hence he was disposed to classify genius, mad- 
ness and crankism together, finding in deviation from ordinary illusions 
the path to wisdom. Plato knew that Socrates had consulted the 
oracle at Delphi, a phenomenon probablv much like the consultation 
of spiritistic mediums in modern times and as often a mixture of shrewd 
wit, delusion, secondarv personality, insanity and fraud, \vith occasional 
cases of supernormal suggestion, and this knowledge on Plato's part 
might well suggest to him the conception that the truth of things would 



SPIRITUALISM. 435 

be discovered m a borderland condition beyond the sensuous experience 
of the multitude. He also knew that Socrates was governed by a 
" voice" which directed his actions, or rather abstention from action, 
in certain instances, an abnormal phenomenon with which modern 
psychology is perfectly familiar as automatism, and that it was possibly 
the object of Socrates in his consultation of the Delphian oracle to test 
its pretensions in comparison with his own powers, so that it was no 
wonder that Plato, with encyclopedic interests should turn a curious 
attention to madness. Even Aristotle admitted facts that suggested 
some sort of supernormal insight and accepted them as deserving of 
his scientific attention. The Neo-Platonists followed these examples 
into magic and trance phenomena, and Epicurus admitted the existence 
of the gods on the evidence of dreams, and only denied them a causal 
influence on the order of nature, assigning them as blissful an existence 
in the intermundia as Aristotle gave to God outside the world watching 
it go and as the Christian world gave to discarnate souls in a paradise 
independent of material embodiment and complications. Even Kant 
paused long enough on the threshold of this awful wilderness to 
seriously study the phenomena of S wedenborg and came away from them 
with his distinction between " noumena " and " phenomena" and the 
frank admission, after his exposition of the antinomies, that the spirit- 
ualist's claims could not be disproved by the " phenomena of ex- 
perience." But philosophy has never been able to endure intellectual 
debauchery and whenever it could recover its natural calm and feel the 
necessity of controlling life by normal conceptions, it has sought to find 
the explanation of " phenomena" in normal " experience" instead of 
discrediting this for the abnormal, even though we must ultimately find 
a unity for both and might discover in the abnormal wandering and 
sporadic facts that afford an imperfect glimpse of a cosmos larger than 
ordinary " experience." Antiquity had no instruments for its guidance 
in this field and hence it was well that the saner philosophic specula- 
tions, avoiding its quicksands and quagmires, confined its reflections 
and ideals to normal life. At any rate, before the scientific spirit of 
Aristotle could be developed, Greek civilization was on its way to the 
grave, and another and religious impulse revived speculation regarding 
the soul and its destiny, with all the passions of barbarism in its wake 
to reinforce its convictions and interests. 

When Christianity took up the problem it was not as a subordinate 
part or a corollary of a larger philosophy of the cosmos, though it 
finally became this, but as the conclusion from an alleged fact. There 
was no dominant intellectual movement of the metaphysical type in 



43^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the country in which the doctrine of immortality was revived in a new 
form, but only the aftermaths of Greek culture, more particularly of 
Neo-Flatonism and Epicureanism. The Hebrews were preeminently 
an ethical and religious, and not a philosophical race, if we may take 
Greek thought as the standard of measurement. They had neither 
absorbed with any enthusiasm the philosophic ideas of their neighbors 
nor created any of their own having a similar purpose. There was 
just enough of Greek culture to divide such as were willing to depart 
from purely Hebrew tradition into two tendencies, those in sympathy 
with Neo-Platonism and those in sympathy with Epicureanism, and 
even these came just as ancient civilization was setting in thunder 
clouds. Palestine had been subjugated by Rome, a civilization that 
carried no philosophy or culture in its wake, and here amid the ruins 
of its own civilization and the decline of the Roman empire, there 
arose a conception of the soul and its survival of death that soon made 
the conquest of the world against the whole influence of Greece and 
Rome, the philosophy of the one having ended in materialism or de- 
spair and the morals of the other in the debaucheries of power and 
conquest. Whatever moral and social impulses may have inspired 
the origin of what is known as Christianity or gave it a mission in that 
critical period of social disruption, it is a matter of historv that it soon 
concentrated in a religion based upon a doctrine of personal immortalitv 
or survival after death. We need not examine all the motives that led 
to this consummation, as we are concerned only with the one that 
terminated in the necessity of a metaphysics. This motive was not a 
theory of the cosmos to start with nor even a theory of the nature of 
the soul, but a simple appeal to an alleged fact which requu'ed an 
explanation. This alleged fact was the resurrection of Christ, his 
personal reappearance after death. 

I am not concerned with the origin of this story nor with either its 
truth or its falsity, but with the fact that the allegation was made and 
believed. This was quite sufficient to start a philosophy, just as the 
alleged influence of weight on downward motion ^vas sufficient to serve 
as a basis for materialism. A philosophy may follow as readily from 
a false assumption as from a fact. Now it is to be especially remarked 
that the story of the resurrection did not bring with it any preconcep- 
tions of the material or immaterial nature of the "soul." All that it 
implied was that personalitv or personal consciousness survived the 
change called death and we were left free to denominate its subject as 
we pleased. Hence on any conception of the substantial nature of the 
" soul," it denied the assertion of the materialists that personality dis- 



• SPIRITUALISM. 437 

appeared with the body. Here was a direct issue with that school 
based upon alleged fact and a regressive inductive inference rather 
than a progressive deductive inference from a preconceived notion of 
the nature of the " soul." The conclusion was not founded upon a 
denial of the materialist's metaphysics, but upon the allegation of a 
fact which contradicted the conclusion from that system, or if not the 
natural conclusion from it, the opinion maintained by the school in 
regard to survival after death. Materialism was thus made to choose 
between the denial of the fact of a resurrection and the implication of 
its doctrine that consciousness was a function of the bodily organism. 
Christianity simply presented an alleged case of actual survival after 
■death against the asserted impossibility of it by the materialist. Phi- 
losophy was challenged to explain away the fact or to accept its signifi- 
cance. Accepting its truth and significance, the next task was to create 
a system of which this possibility of survival was a necessary conse- 
-quence or a part of a cosmic scheme. 

The allegation of Christ's resurrection appears, superficially at 
least, to have represented a wholly new conception and it impressed 
later philosophers of every school with the conviction that it was a 
totally supernatural conception and that it violated every principle of 
Greek philosophy. But whatever can be said about the authenticity 
of the story, it is an illusion to suppose that the idea was wholly new 
or that it was in total contradiction with any of the Greek philosophies 
except Plato ! It was a conception that grew right out of materialism 
itself and was a very natural inference from its doctrine of the " soul." 
All that it contradicted in that system was its assertion, not supported 
l)y its conception of the " soul," that survival was not a fact, while it 
appropriated the doctrine that the "soul" was an organism of very 
fine matter or atoms complementary to the physical body which sug- 
gested that its integrity might not be dependent upon the bodily organi- 
zation. Thus the new spiritualism, instead of following in the wake 
-of Plato, Aristotle, and the Stoics, or the pantheistic nihilism of the 
Neo-Platonists, as later philosophy did, simply grew out of Greek 
materialism ! That this materialistic theory had to some extent per- 
meated Judaistic thought is apparent in the controversy between the 
Sadducees and Pharisees on this point. These sects had apparently 
discussed the immortality of the soul and divided upon it before 
Christianity arose, the former denying and the latter affirming, not 
only its persistence, but also a doctrine of resurrection. The Sad- 
ducees assumed that the soul perished with the body and did not 
*'rise" again; the Pharisees assumed that it survived death and so 



43^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

"arose" from the grave. The one accepted the negative, and the 
other the positive concejDtion of the materialists in regard to the nature 
and destiny of the "soul." The reader will remember that I called 
attention, when discussing it (p. 368), to an inconsistency in Greek 
materialism in its doctrine of the " soul." It actually admitted thxit 
the " soul " was a fine material (in later parlance, immaterial) organism 
inhabiting the body, and did not explicitly assert that it was a modal 
function of the physical body that perished. I remarked that this con- 
cession was inconsistent with the dogmatic denial of survival and that 
the doctrine might be converted into a basis for immortality rather 
than an argument against it. This was all the easier for the reason 
that ancient thought did not make any clear distinction between the 
supersensible and the superphysical, and it made no difference in the 
case, whether it did or did not so distinguish them because all agreed 
that the " substance " of an3-thing was permanent and only the 
functions of composite organism were transient and perishable, so 
that materialism could escape a fatal ad hominejn argument only by 
giving up the conception which it had maintained regarding the soul 
and by treating it as a function of a perishable organism. This latter 
was the alternative which the later and modern materialism took. 

Now in this connection there ^vas another conceptual development 
of some interest. Ancient thought of all kinds assumed the Ptolemaic 
conception of the universe. This made the earth the center of it, the 
point toward which all heavier and coarser matter gravitated, and the 
finer matter arose heavenward. The Epicureans w'ere the exception 
to this and made all matter gravitate downward with the same velocity. 
We know what a prominent place this doctrine of the downward 
tendency of heavy matter and the upward tendency of lighter inatter 
had in earlier Greek philosophy, and that in Aristotle and others it 
took the form of asserting that the stars were " divine" beings. We 
have then the conception that matter of the heavier or grosser sort 
tended downward, and matter of the finer and ethereal sort tended up- 
ward. When this distinction took the form of " matter" and " spirit.'' 
it was clear what the natural tendencies of thought would be in connec- 
tion with the general doctrine of Hades or the " imderworld " and the 
materialistic theory of an ethereal organism, especiallv ^vhen the idea was 
combined with an ethical and probative scheme of the cosmos. Both 
Greek and Hebrew thought of the common t3-pe admitted the existence 
of an " underworld " which was a sort of undefined depositary residence 
for departed bodies and " spirits" alike, the bodies ultimately disap. 
pearing. But it was a natural and logical sequence of the conception of 



SPIRITUALISM. 439 

the body as gross matter and the " soul " as ethereal matter, that either 
at death or some time later when fully released from material associa- 
tions, the " soul" should rise upward, and we should have a doctrine 
of the resurrection. All that was necessary to effect this result was to 
frankly accept the materialist's conception of the " soul" and to apply 
the assumed fact of the gravitation of heavier matter and the levitation 
of the lighter matter to represent a complete conception of a resurrec- 
tion as the natural inference from materialism ! Then if we add to 
this the distinction between good and bad souls, the virtuous and the 
wicked, along with the Platonic idea that the sensuous souls were so 
attracted to grosser matter, in modern spiritistic parlance, "earth- 
bound " spirits, and that the finer souls were attracted to a more 
"spiritual" or ethereal environment, we can understand the evolution 
of the ideas of Hell and Heaven, as simply modifications of Hades or 
Tartarus, on the one hand, and of celestial space, on the other. The 
whole scheme of rewards and punishments arose naturally out of this 
idea of a connection ^vith the gravitation of the body and the levitation 
of the soul, as soon as it was connected with ethics. But the Important 
point to keep in mind for metaphysics is the naturalness of a doctrine 
of the resurrection, as a logical consequence of the admission of Greek 
materialism in connection with the accepted gravitation of gross matter 
and the levitation of ethereal matter or the " soul." There is in it a 
jierfectly clear opportunity for the conception of a " spiritual body" 
such as is evidently suggested in the doctrine of St. Paul, who was 
acquainted with the " sect of the Epicureans," as he chose to rebuke 
some of the early Christians for their disposition to run after the 
" rudiments of the world" {<yroiytla -/.oaiwo)^ atomic speculations about 
the origin of things, and in his assumption of the "spiritual body" 
he might have granted any materialistic theory of this "matter" as 
long as the " spiritual body " inhabiting the physical organism was 
conceded. 

It is thus quite apparent that there were definite philosophic ante- 
cedents for a doctrine of the resurrection, and this of the "physical" 
type before any allegation of its being a fact had been made. There 
was nothing in the materialistic and religious theories of the time, as 
we have just seen, to render one type of a "physical" resurrection 
antecedently impossible. Only the resurrection of the ordinary " phys- 
ical" body was calculated to arouse scepticism. We have also found 
actual traces in the division between the Sadducees and Pharisees of a 
belief in the resurrection, and it only remains to remark the circum- 
stances which might easily give rise to the story of Christ's actual res- 



440 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

urrection without any conflict with tlie materialistic j^hilosophy as then 
conceived, but only with the uniform human experience that the sensi- 
ble physical body perished, and the absence of common reappearances 
lifter death. The primary circumstance, of course, is the fact that, 
Avith no clearly drawn distinction between supersensible matter and 
superphysical reality, there would be no difficulty in accepting a " phys- 
ical" resurrection of the ethereal type and in giving credence to the 
story about the mode of Christ's triumph over death. The conception 
did not represent an entire break in the continuity of human thought, 
but was, in some of its features at least, an effective ad 7^omi7ievi con- 
struction of materialism, a necessary consequence of admitting the 
existence of a " sj^iritual body" and denying by implication that con- 
sciousness was a function of the grosser physical organism. The story 
thus simply fitted into the pi-econceptions of the prevailing philosophy 
of the time and claimed to give an " empirical " fact requiring expla- 
nation and a consequence or illustration of that theory, a fact which 
every one might verify by asking for the testimony of competent wit- 
nesses. In other words, the ground was already prepared for the doc- 
trine of the resurrection, as supj^osedly proved by an instance of it, in 
the antecedent philosophic system of the time which it both developed 
and overthrew, effecting the result, however, only by forcing material- 
ism to choose between one or the other of its claims and to make its 
system consistent, that is, between accepting the denial of survival with 
the implication that consciousness was a function of the bodily organ- 
ism and holding to the conception of a " spiritual body" with its impli- 
cation of personal continuance after death. It was preciselv this con- 
formity to philosophic conceptions of a crude sort that explains both 
the acceptance of the story of the resurrection in the genesis of a new 
religion and the liabilitv to a misinterpretation of what might actually 
have occurred. It is quite easy to suppose that an apparition of Christ 
was experienced by some of his disciples after his death, and whether 
we treat it with Renan as a subjective hallucination due to excitement 
or with others as a veridical hallucination, such a phenomenon would 
naturally appear to fit in with the materialistic theory of the " spiritual 
body " with all who were inclined to assume a real significance in the 
experience, while the wide acceptance of it and the manner and con- 
fidence with which the new sect concentrated upon it. as a basis for a 
new theory of things, go far to suggest the possibility that something 
occurred to make the application of the existing theorv of a resurrection 
plausible in terms of actual fact. But it would not affect the case to 
suppose that the whole storv was legendary, because there can be no 



SPIRITUALISM. 441 

doubt that, at one stage of the development of Christianity, it was 
believed, and it does not matter in v\diat form it was believed to have 
been a fact. It was tlie belief in the real or alleged fact that determined 
the development of the Christian doctrine, and not the actual occur- 
rence of the event as described, though it might be claimed with some 
show of reason that such a story would not likely take such a hold of 
men at the time unless something unusual had actually occurred to 
give an explanation of the genesis of the story. But with that we 
have nothing to do, as the influence of the doctrine depends upon its be- 
lief and not on the authenticity of the incidents. But the later we place 
the origin of the story which was believed, the more pi"obable it is that 
it represents a misinterpretation of what actually occurred, and w^here 
the materialistic theory of the " soul " was not known or was forgotten, 
the more likely was the doctrine of the resurrection to take the form of 
application to the ordinary physical body and to invite scepticism and 
opposition from the standpoint of both philosophy and ordinary experi- 
ence. It required acquaintance with the real conceptions of philo- 
sophical materialism to detect the possible meaning of a story like the 
resurrection, but as common people were the vehicles of its preserva- 
tion and communication it would easilv undergo the modifications to 
which all second-hand narratives are exposed. This is apparent in the 
doctrine of St. Paul, who, understanding Epicureanism in some of its 
features at least, evidently had a theory of the "spiritual body" not 
wholly consonant with later theories of the bodily resurrection 

I need not repeat at length how the fact of a resurrection, whether 
of the actual physical body or of the ethereal organism in the form of 
a veridical hallucination, and whether proved or believed, w'ould nec- 
essarily affect the materialistic doctrine interpreted as a denial of per- 
sonal survival after death. This is apparent on the face of it. But 
the conception of it is most interesting as an actual development of one 
side of materialism involving a conception of an ethereal organism that 
was a standing temptation to interpret unusual experiences in the direc- 
tion of a belief the very contradictory of its intentions. But the moment 
that materialism changed its base and regarded consciousness as the 
function of the bodily organism, and not of a "spiritual" organism, 
this ad hominejii argument against it would have no cogency, and the 
whole issue would then depend, as it came to do, upon the nature, the 
authenticity, and the accuracy of the story of the resurrection. 

There were at least two general influences that diverted Christianity 
in the direction of an anti-materialistic philosophy for a solution of its 
problem, after being obliged to surrender the ad hoininem appeal on 



442 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the consequences of the materialist's doctrine of a "spiritual body." 
The first was St. Paul's conception of Christianity as a part of a cosmic 
dispensation initiated and sustained for the personal salvation of man, 
and the second was the isolated and individual character of the alleged 
fact upon which so much was made to dej^end, together with its with- 
drawal beyond the boundaries of personal knowledge and verification. 
These two influences are combined in the necessit}- of reliance upon a 
personal Deity to fulfil the promises of a future life implanted in human 
instincts after the individual instance of its alleged proof had faded into 
the twilight of fable. As time passed on the difficulties of believing 
any stor}' of a resurrection increased and it seemed too small a piece 
of evidence to support so large a doctrine, and hence the necessity of 
proving that the universe was created and sustained by a personal divin- 
ity with a view to the spiritual development and immortality of man. 
This result could not be trusted to the caprices of a mechanical system 
supposed by materialism to be dominated by chance. Any security 
that could be obtained for the beliefs in a personal providence would 
redound to the credibility of the belief that his creatures would hardly 
have ideals and duties that were not realizable in their incarnate exist- 
ence, and in fact Kant makes this disparity between merit and duty an 
argument for immortality and the necessity of a cause to establish a 
relation of this kind between duty and happiness an argument for the 
existence of God. What could not be vindicated, therefore, by reliance 
upon a story which was so isolated as the resurrection, as understood, 
and which had lost its setting in the economy of things, had to be 
sought in the theistic doctrine of a personal God whose character 
would appear inconsistent if he permitted the annihilation of beings, 
his own creatures, wdiose moral ideals pointed to conditions which the 
present existence did not realize and where duty, without this hope, 
seemed to have such limitations that its validity might be questioned 
and its power inevitably weakened. 

When Christian philosophy found it necessary to undertake a re- 
construction of metaph3-sics in reply to materialism, as it was con- 
ceived in opposition to the existence of an immaterial soul and its 
survival of death, it had to arrange for a cosmological as well as a 
psvchological problem. The assumptions which it developed in the 
completion of its task, extending over many centuries, and for meeting 
its emergencies, can be summed up in the following conceptions, as 
representing loans from the preexisting systems of speculation. They 
are conceptions which we shall require to constantly keep in mind 
when estimating the efforts and accomplishments of mediasval thought. 



SPIRITUALISM. 443 

(i) Christian philosopliy accepted the Aristotelian conception of a 
" prime mover," giving it Plato's conception of a Demiourgos or crea- 
tor of the cosmic order, that is, a doctrine of theism. (2) It accepted 
Plato's conception of the transient nature of matter, both sensible and 
supersensible, and with it the notion of creation as opposed to evolu- 
tion and the eternity of matter. (3) It accepted the conception of 
individuality which was represented in the materialist's indivisible 
and indestructible atom. To what it borrowed it added the concep- 
tion of the soul as an immaterial substance of which consciousness 
was a function or attribute, and its imperishable nature followed as a 
consequence of its distinction from the " phenomenal " character of 
matter and its own indivisible or indecomposable nature, where the 
theory did not make survival a result of grace. The " phenomenal" 
nature of the cosmos was admitted with Plato and the soul made a 
substance not subject to the vicissitudes of material changes in any 
form but only of separation from the body. The conception of it as 
immaterial and hence as superphysical rather than supersensible matter 
was a distinct break with the monism of Greek philosophy and initiated 
a dualism which completed itself in the philosophy of Descartes and 
tended to the conception and definition of the soul in terms of abstrac- 
tions and negations of matter, because speculation constantly forgot 
the existence of the supersensible in the material world and undertook 
to make sense perception the measure of the material substance and 
abstraction of sense the criterion of the spiritual, resulting in the nega- 
tion of all that is apparently real for the determination of the ideal or 
spiritual. 

It was the biblical theory of creation, reasserted by St. Paul, that 
forced Christianity to undertake a cosmology. This view asserted 
that the " world " had a beginning in time and was at least in apparent 
contradiction with the materialistic doctrine of that period. Accept- 
ing with Aristotle, therefore, that all motion or change had a beginning 
and that matter was incapable of initiating its own motion, there was 
no trouble in seeking the cause of it and of the cosmic order in an 
immaterial power. Hence it was a short step to theism which simply 
added the Judaistic conception of a personal deity to the Aristotelian 
idea of primiim mobile and which came in to explain the origin and 
development of the system which was to culminate in man's personal 
salvation and immortality. But Aristotle admitted the independent 
existence of matter and required his priinuin mobile only to initiate its 
motion and after that things went on pretty much as the materialists 
conceived it, except that the Aristotelian process of evolution was 



/ 



444 '^i^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

more closely allied to metamorphosis than composition of atomic 
elements. As a more complete overthrow of materialism, whatever its 
mechanical principles might explain after the existence of matter had 
once been admitted, Christianity went further to declare that even 
elementary matter as well as the cosmic order or sensible world was a 
" creation" of the divine power. Atoms also had a beginning in time 
and might be destructible. The whole cosmic system, " phenomenal " 
and " noumenal," was conceived as a dependent reality, obedient to a 
personal intelligence of an immaterial or spiritual nature, so that in 
the final outcome there would be no difficulty in assigning conscious- 
ness in man a possible place not so easily proved on materialistic 
assumptions. Accepting this position philosophy had no ultimate 
dualism to contend with, while it excluded the possibility of ultimately 
explaining even mechanical "phenomena" independently of intelli- 
gence. But whatever consistenc}' or conceivabilitv this view may 
have, it has to run the gauntlet of the evidential problem and in Hume 
and Kant it reached a sceptical result. 

The adoption of the atomic conception of individuality and of sub- 
stance that is simple and indivisible was a concession to materialism, 
even though it made this substance ultimately dependent, in as much 
as this individuality served as a basis for the attachment of persistent 
qualities which might survive change and decomposition. It was 
qualified to apply an ad ho7nineni argument in favor of the immortalitv 
of the soul by making it a simple substance. It is apparent here that 
the whole Platonic point of view was abandoned, except in so far as 
Plato admitted that the "soul" was simple. Plato w-as trying to 
secure immortality after he conceived the soul as a Diode of realitv, an 
activity of substance, and never reached the position by which he 
could make this tenable or easilv conceivable. In his vacillation 
between pantheistic monism with a doctrine of metamorphosis and a 
doctrine of atomism he never brought himself clearly to recognize 
simple persistent substances with attributes remaining through change, 
though it is possible to say that the clarification of his conceptions 
leads to this result, and hence Christianity gained a logical advantage 
and a more intelligible point of view by supposing with the materialists 
and emphasizing the fact that certain qualities may persist through 
changes of composition in the elementarv substances which served as 
the centers of reference for various " phenomena." It appropriated 
the Aristotelian and Epicurean conception of substance as the perma- 
nent base of " phenomena," but gave it the individuality of Epicurus 
so that it had a center of reference to which it could attach conscious- 



SPIRITUALISM. 445 

ness or personality as an activity without implicating it in the vicissi- 
tudes of matter simple or compound. If Christian philosophy had 
conceived this unitary being, represented as mind and immaterial sub- 
stance, as the subject of metamorphic changes or modal modifications, 
it might have gotten only the permanence of substance and not the 
persistence of its modes through changes of relation. But as in the 
case of consciousness the moral interest lay in the preservation of this 
functional activity. Christian philosophy abandoned the idea of meta- 
morphosis for that of a substance with a fixed set of attributes, the 
notion of the materialists, and supposed that personality, once in exist- 
ence, could persist through the changes effected by death, while it 
could allow for all sorts of incidental effects from composition. Here 
again there is no difficulty in the conception because it conforms to 
every requirement of the materialistic theory in its representation, but 
however possible and consistent the doctrine may be it has to face the 
evidential criterion. 

The purest form of this adoption of the matet'ialistic conception of 
permanent reality is found in Tertullian, who undertook a curious 
defense of immortality by appropriating the atomic doctrine in favor 
of the soul. He so felt the difficulty of maintaining an immaterial 
basis for consciousness as a persistent function, probably influenced by 
the perplexities of the Platonic conception, that he simply abandoned 
all efforts to dislodge materialism by supposing a "spiritual" sub- 
stratum and boldly asserted that the soul had to be material in order to 
be immortal. He accepted the indestructibility of matter, at least 
subject to the divine will, in the atomic form and appropriated the 
conception to assume that the soul was a material atom and so imperish- 
able. He had no difficulty with the past, as the reincarnationist must 
have, because he conceived all matter as created. It was its simplicity 
that guaranteed it future permanence when once created, even though 
in the final analysis this persistence might be conditioned as dependent 
upon the will of the creator. But the conception of the soul as a 
material atom, whatever we may think of it as an alleged fact, in order 
to secure its persistence after death was an ad ho^itinefn argument of 
an irresistible kind. Its weakness, however, lay in the character of 
all philosophic arguments at that time. It was only an a priori possi- 
bility deducible from assumptions which themselves might be brought 
into court and thei^e was no way of proving by observation or experi- 
ment that the substratum of consciousness was a material atom. The 
test for this would be nothing more or less than an adequate pair of 
scales applied before and after death, w^ith allowance for various diffi- 



44^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

culties which modern science would quickly show were fatal against 
anything conclusive. Moreover the cogency of his claim for an atomic 
subject for consciousness depended upon the assumption of such a 
difference between mental and physical functions that the demand for 
an immaterial subject would be as rational as that for a material atom. 
But the evidence for both was lacking, while the tendencv of specula- 
tion was toward an antithesis between mind and matter in the attempt 
to explain the " phenomena" of consciousness, and however effective 
Tertullian's position might prove in an a priori argument, the natural 
and logical tendency of most minds is to refute materialism by denving 
its major premise, that is, by disputing the possibilitv that conscious- 
ness can in any way be a function of matter, whether simple or com- 
pound. This was the course taken by philosophical development and 
it terminated in the dualism of Descartes who Avorked out the medijEval 
antithesis into its clearest expression. 

I do not care anything about the motives of Cartesianism nor about 
its details. The point of interest to our present problem is the manner 
in which the original antithesis between the material and the spiritual 
worked itself out into radical definition. This Descartes indicated bv 
maintaining that the matter was qualified by extension as its essential 
property without anv consciousness and mind as qualified by conscious- 
ness as its essential function without any extension. INIatter \vas 
extended ; mind was not extended, but spaceless. The opposition 
between them Avas so radical that a causal i-elation between their func- 
tions has seemed impossible and the consequence was the intellectual 
movement which terminated in materialism, on the one hand, and 
idealism, on the other. Both endeavored to escape the dualism of 
Descartes. Materialism either accepted the extension of matter and 
made consciousness one of its functions or, as in Spinoza, made exten- 
sion and consciousness non-convertible functions of matter. Idealism 
ended either in denying extension of both matter and mind, as in Leib- 
nitz, or in making space a "form of perception" without saying 
whether it was to be conceived as a property of either matter or mind, 
a curious and mongrel evasion of the problem which the ordinary 
human thinker must conceive as denving extension to matter and affirm- 
ing it of mind ! This, of course, was not the intention of the system, 
but the attempt to conceive what it means leads to something very 
like this description of it and represents something actually very 
close to it, unless the objectivity of space be admitted in some 
sense of the term. But whatever it meant, the system was simply 
one of those whose speculations were determined by the impor- 



SPIRITUALISM. 447 

tance which Cartesianism gave to extension as a determinant factor 
in metaphysics. 

In his treatment of the problem Descartes assumed as a foregone 
conchxsion that consciousness must have a different subject from ma- 
terial " phenomena." This conception was so ingrained in the course 
and results of scholastic thought, and perhaps so articulated with the 
moral and religious prejudices or interests of the time, that he either 
saw no reason to question the assumption or no safety in disputing it, 
if he did see it. However this may have been he did not dispute it, 
but accepted the real or apparent distinction between mental and 
physical " phenomena," \vhether from motives of prudence or phi- 
losophic necessity, as demanding a corresponding distinction between 
their grounds or subjects. But he stated this distinction between 
them in such terms, excluding extension from mind and consciousness 
from matter, that the philosophers interpreted it as implying the im- 
possibility of any causal relation between them while Descartes admitted 
that this relation was a fact. The attempt to explain how they could 
be related or influence each other, as they \vere defined, resulted either 
in the denial of Cartesian dualism or in the denial of a causal nexus 
between them. The former was the position of materialism and the 
latter the position of Leibnitzian idealism, "with variations between 
monism and pluralism in other systems. But in all of them there was 
the consciousness of the real or apparent necessity for either explain- 
ing or denying a supposed causal nexus between mental and physical 
events. 

But it seems to the present writer that there was a fundamental 
misconception at the basis of this development toward the idealistic 
denial of a causal relation between matter and mind in order to solve 
the problem, and this misconception was the result of ignoring the 
proper issue. The philosophers involved in this development presup- 
posed that there were adequate reasons for separating the subject of 
consciousness from matter in some form. Their first problem should 
have been to ascertain whether there were any reasons in fact to assert 
a subject for mental states that was other than the physical organism, 
assuming, of course, that matter was an accepted fact. It was possi- 
ble to attack the question as did Berkeley and to determine whether 
there was any material existence over against the assumed existence of 
mind. But the existence of matter, whether created or uncreated, was 
so thoroughly established in human conviction at the time of Descartes 
and his followers that the application of doubt to it would have re- 
ceived no general attention and would not even have seemed plausible 



44^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

to the philosophers themselves, so that the problem which presented 
itself as the most natural was the existence and nature of the soul, that 
of matter not being questioned and the issue being whether matter 
was or was not adequate to the explanation of consciousness. We 
must remember too that even Berkeley made concessions to what 
the term " matter" actually stood for, a circumstance which indicates 
that his idealism, like his belief in the miraculous virtues of tar water, 
had to be taken cum gra7io sails. 

It will be said, of course, that the philosopher did approach this 
primary problem and gave his reasons in fact for asserting a subject 
for consciousness other than the organism, and that this " reason in 
fact" was the difference between mental and physical "phenomena." 
This defence, at least in respect to method, is unquestionably correct^ 
though the argument along this line of investigation was not expli- 
citly developed into a scientific issue which was a question of evi- 
dence. It was only when pressed to justify the assumption of distinct 
subjects that the argument would take the form of the distinction 
between mental and physical events, while the real problem, as then 
conceived, was not so much the separateness of the subjects of mental 
and physical "phenomena" as it was their nature., after their indi- 
viduality was admitted. There were two distinct problems before the 
philosopher. The first was the question whether consciousness was 
a function of the organism, that is, whether it had a subject other than 
the brain, no matter what that subject was, and the second problem 
was to determine what the natiwe of that assumed separate subject 
was. The first was presumably solved by the appeal to the differences 
between mental and physical " phenomena." But the difficulty of 
basing any argument for a distinction of subjects upon the difference 
between the nature of the " phenomena" is twofold: first, our igno- 
rance as to the absoluteness of the distinction, and second, the fact that 
a unity of subject is quite compatible with very great differences of . 
attributes. The latter position is illustrated by all phvsical substances 
and, on a large philosophic scale, by the system of Spinoza who 
appears to have had no difficulty in supposing that both extension and 
consciousness could be attributes of the same subject. The former is 
illustrated by the limitations of dogmatic introspection in such matters 
as physical sound and color. This difficulty was not discussed by the 
Cartesians and was probably not even appreciated. They simply 
assumed that it did not exist and simply relied upon the accepted dif- 
ference between mental and phvsical events to prove both the existence 
and the nature of a distinct subject for consciousness, though practi- 



SPIRITUALISM. 449 

cally unconscious of the first of these problems as distinct from the 
second, since they were chiefly interested in the nature of mind and 
matter. The reason for this was in the traditional conceptions of phi- 
losophical and theological thought. The time had passed when the 
most important issue was whether consciousness could be a function 
of the organism or not. It was not enough to secure its immortality 
that consciousness should be proved to have another subject than the 
brain, as this conclusion would have sufficed to refute the older 
materialism or any materialism supposing the permanence of matter. 
But it was now necessary to prove that consciousness was the func- 
tion, not only of something other than the organism, but also of some- 
thing that was not matter. The reason for this necessity was the fact 
that Christianity had contended for the created and perishable nature 
of matter, so that, if we accepted the supposition that consciousness 
was an attribute of matter in any form wdiatever, whether simple or 
compound, we would be compelled to admit its liability to disappear- 
ance or annihilation. If the indestructibility of matter had been as 
clearly recognized and its real or apparent significance as keenly felt 
as in later times, the necessity for demanding an immaterial basis for 
the persistence of consciousness would not have seemed so imperative, 
since philosophy could either have returned to the position of Tertul- 
lian or have accepted something like that of Epicurus. But as long as 
it conceived matter, sensible and supersensible, as created and ephem- 
eral it could only seek in the immaterial a basis for an immortality 
which it would not yield to scepticism. Hence it was the interest in 
obtaining and defining a reality for the subject of consciousness which 
could survive change that pi'ompted Cartesian speculation to describe 
mind as it did, and to concentrate philosophy upon the problem of the 
nature of the soul rather than the question of its existence. This latter 
problem was rather ignored until the later materialists took it up. It was 
at bottom the question whether any conception could be obtained that 
would guarantee the possibility of survival of death, and as this could not 
be found in matter which had come to be conceived as created and perish- 
able it had to be found in the immaterial, the definition of which had 
to exclude the material, as the Cartesians thought, to the extent of not 
permitting any participation in extension. The primary problem, 
however, which was not pi'operly appreciated by the philosophers, 
was the existence of a subject other than the brain, and this is a 
question oifact^ while the one attacked by them was secondary and is 
a question of Jiature., and the right to entertain it is dependent upon 
the adequate solution of the former. Of course, the philosophers 
29 



45° THE PROBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPHY. 

would contend that they had satisfactorily answered the first question, 
l)ut they allowed themselves to be governed by the necessities of a 
merely traditional conception of matter in the definition of mind, and 
by the manner in which they discussed their dualism, carrying into 
the problem the conception of material rather than efficient causation. 
They thus created another and larger problem than ever, whose attempted 
.solution led to a denial of their claims for the independent existence of 
mind ! This is apparent in the result of the attempt to explain the 
admitted relation between mind and matter after the distinction of 
their nature was asserted. A causal relation or influence between 
them was admitted, but it appeared to be a question how this was 
possible between things so opposed to each other as extended matter 
and unextended mind, especially as the tendency at that time was to 
conceive the causal nexus as a constitutive and " material" one. The 
manner of solving the new problem defined very sharply the alternatives 
between which the philosopher apparently had to choose. He had 
apparently to decide between the separate existence of mind and a causal 
nexus between it and matter. The failure to show how this causal nexus 
w^as possible was taken to prove either that the Cartesian conception 
of mind was not tenable, or, if tenable, that the causal relation was 
not a fact. 

It is possible to consider this conclusion as an inconsequence. 
There is no reason to undertake the explanation of such a causal rela- 
tion except upon the assumed validity of the fact, and once granted as 
a fact, the failure to show hoxv this relation is possible does not con- 
tradict the fact, but only leaves that problem imsolved. It is not ex- 
planation that validates a fact, but evidence. Explanation follows the 
admission of a fact and does not precede it, and is not legitimate until 
the fact is accepted. Descartes sujDposed that he had evidence of the 
fact. But scholasticism had so saturated the human mind with the 
assumption that explanation Is so necessary to the acceptance of facts 
and that failure at explanation discredits the premises, that an unex- 
plained causal relation bet^veen mind and matter Avas taken as tanta- 
mount to a denial of the fact of that relation or to an implication of the 
truth of materialism. To me the first problem is to prove or disprove 
the fact of a causal nexus between " phenomena," or mind and matter, 
and to explain It afterward, and not to condition the fact or existence 
of the relation upon the posslbllitv or success of making it Intelligible 
In terms of a given assumption. INIaklng it intelligible In such a man- 
ner may explain Its nature and make it unnecessary to dispute Its 
credibility, but it does not determine that it is a fact. Hence the 



SPIRITUALISM. 45 1 

failure to explain an alleged circumstance by reference to the known 
or assumed does not disprove its claim to be a fact, though it may 
justify some suspense of judgment, out of respect to the fact that unity 
and consistency -wall enable us to escape contradiction even when they 
are not the evidence of truth. 

But if the case is as I have indicated, why did the course of phi- 
losophy take the direction that it assumed and why did it seem impos- 
sible to suppose a causal relation between mind and matter on the 
assumption of Descartes regarding the nature of the two subjects? If 
the nature of mind and matter as facts is one thing and the causal rela- 
tion between them as a fact is another, the evidence in each case being 
different, how can they contradict and why should philosophy have 
argued as if they did contradict? It is a fact that men have generally 
thought that either Cartesian dualism or the causal relation between 
mind and matter had to be surrendered. But if both are facts deter- 
mined by independent evidence, why should men think so? The 
answer to this question is simple enough. This answer is the fact 
that it was not the antithesis or dualism between mind and matter, the 
assumed inextension of mind and extension of matter, that gave the 
trouble, but it was the assumption that the causal relation had to be a 
material one, if admitted at all, and this conceived it as an application 
of the principle of the transmission of influence from subject to sub- 
ject, as causality was interpreted in the " mechanical" world, involv- 
ing the principle of identity, while the definition of the two realities 
involved the principle of difference or contradiction in the most definite 
form, far more radical than the ancient distinction between the sensi- 
ble and supersensible worlds of matter. This conception of causality 
was that of a " mechanical " injluxus physicus^ as proved by the way 
that Leibnitz and others understood it, and which was conceived in 
terms of motion or the translation of force. This implied extension, 
while the very definition of mind excluded extension from it, so that a 
relation of material causation was rendered impossible. Hence it was 
not the extended nature of matter and the unextended nature of mind 
that created the difficulty, but the assumption of extension in the con- 
ception of the causal nexus accepted as a fact, that contradicted the 
supposed nature of one of the subjects. If the conception of efficient 
or occasional causality had been developed, free from the paradoxes of 
" preestablished harmony" the conception of dualism, as representing 
both extended and unextended realities, would have offered no insu- 
perable logical difficulties, whatever might have been the result of 
investigation as to the facts. The contradiction was between the 



452 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

assumptions regarding the qualitative nature of the two subjects and 
the nature of the causal nexus, and not between the nature of the sub- 
jects and the fact that there was some kind of a causal relation. 

I am, however, not defending dualism in this analysis of the prob- 
lem : for I am indifferent to either its truth or falsity, because the con- 
ception is so elastic that it can be made either true or false according 
to definition and ought not to give the philosophers any more difficulties 
than atomic pluralism, which is little more than dualism multiplied. 
But with this remark against misunderstanding the motive and tendency 
of my argument, I may simply add the obsei"vation that the w'ide enter- 
tainment of a doctrine of dualism in some form, even among philos- 
ophers, requires explanation and apology quite as much as the philo- 
sophic tendency in some minds to regard it as inconceivable. But the 
position that the difliculty is not in the dualism per se, as a doctrine 
of difference between mind and matter, but in the assumption of a 
causal relation incompatible with its conception, while some rational 
and intelligible relation has to be admitted as a fact, if clear thinking 
is possible, is an apology for both sides, while the fact mav suggest 
that the theory might be as much misunderstood by its critics as it has 
been misrepresented by its advocates. The first question is whether 
the nature of mental and physical "phenomena" is such as to require 
different subjects for them, together with the qualities which deter- 
mined their nature as realities, and the next and independent question 
is whether there is any influential connection between them, and not 
whether that connection is of a kind to contradict the distinction which 
the facts require us to make between them. The conception of an 
efficient causal nexus between them is quite compatible with a differ- 
ence of their nature and may be necessary to accept the vmity of action 
with that difference which we actually observe. 

This brings us to the theorv of parallelism again, and the problem 
which it undertakes to solve or the conclusion which it endeavors to 
establish. We saw in discussing materialism (p. 391) that the 
"mechanical" conceptions of Descartes and his followers in the field 
of physical science tended to interpret the idea of causality in terms of 
the transmission of force or the principle of material as distinct from 
efficient causes, and that the final proof of the theory of the conserva- 
tion of energy tended to place the Cartesian conception beyond dispute 
and to interpret " mechanical " causation in terms of qualitative identitv 
between antecedent and consequent. We then showed that Leibnitz 
tried his doctrine of monadism with its denial of an i}2jJux7(s -physicus 
and with its affirmation of preestablished harmony against materi- 



SPIRITUALISM. 453 

alism and its "mechanical" conceptions, and so gave rise to par- 
allelism which has again been revived among philosophers as an 
argument against the materialistic theory in recent years. What 
parallelism tries to shov\^ is that consciousness and physical events 
are not convertible as the doctrine of the conservation of energy 
assumes when qualitatively interpreted. Its object is to show that they 
are so different in kind that we cannot conceive their transmutation 
into each other or any relations of material identity as materialism is 
supposed to require of this causal relation. It assumes that if this 
material causal relation is denied of them the materialistic theory must 
abandon its claim to explaining consciousness by a "mechanical" 
theory. We have granted that this argument is conclusive against 
materialism, if it is made definitively convertible with the idea of 
material causation or the absolute identity of mental and physical 
" phenomena," and that materialism would have to resort to the con- 
ception of efficient causation to escape refutation. I also called atten- 
tion to the fact that the spiritualist, if he had accepted the materialist's 
position and principle of material cavisation, would have had a fatal 
ad hominein argument against his denial of the persistence of con- 
sciousness and in fav'or of at least the concomitance of consciousness 
with all physical "phenomena" and possibly the identity of physical 
and mental events, making the phvsical only the objective side of the 
mental. But instead of taking this position the spiritualist went off to 
parallelism to prove the difference between mental and physical on the 
assumption that he might thus defend the distinction of their subjects, 
when as a matter of fact the doctrine of the conservation, as interpreted, 
made it unnecessary to have different subjects in order to preserve 
identity through change. But the instinct for contradicting an oppo- 
nent's conception of the case was too strong to permit the suggestion of 
a 7ton seqtiitiir in the materialist's deduction, and the argument took 
the form of insisting on the difference between the mental and physical 
as a ground for a distinction of subjects. The inconsequence of this 
position is perfectly clear. A difference in kind of qualities is not a 
decisive evidence of a difference of subjects, unless we assume that a 
simple subject can have only one attribute. If we assume Herbart's 
"real" as the true conception of iiltimate reality, we should have a 
conception in which the presence of two different properties in the 
same apparent Individual would have to be treated as evidence of two 
" reals " In the same space or time, and even physical scientists have 
occasionally maintained that true simplicity of atomic structure 
requires absolute singleness of the quality determining the subject. 



454 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

But it is usual to suppose that a synthesis or complexus of qualities is 
consistent with simplicity of subject. This is unquestionably correct 
for sensible individuality and continuity within the limits of that indi- 
viduality, and whether it is true or not for the supersensible is not a 
question discussed by the spiritualist. He virtually concedes that a 
simple subject may have a synthesis of qualities which may be different 
in kind and does not see that this concession deprives his parallelistic 
argument against materialism of its cogency. All that his parallelism 
can even profess to do is to refute the identity of mental and phj-sical 
" phenomena " or the application of material causation to their relation, 
while the fact that qualitatively different attributes may inhere in the 
same subject defeats the inference which he wishes to have drawn in 
favor of the substantive separation between mind and matter. For if 
a complexus of differential qualities can inhere in the same subject 
what is to hinder the materialist, after correcting the conception 
of the conservation of energ}^ to mean identity of quantity and not 
identity of quality in change, from still adhering to the conten- 
tion that consciousness may inhere in matter side by side with 
other material qualities reducible, if you like, to modes of motion? 
If the non-convertible properties of extension, densitv, color, so- 
norousness, hardness, elasticity, etc., may inhere in the same sub- 
ject there can be no reason to deny the simultaneous inhesion of 
consciousness in it, except the assumptions that all the properties 
of matter must be modes of motion and that consciousness is 7iot 
a mode of motion. Both assumptions, however, are not proved and 
may not be provable. All that we know is that there is a differ- 
ence between mental and physical "phenomena" as observed, not 
that this difference is the difference between motional and non- 
motional facts. The idealist is perfectly helpless here. In his doc- 
trine that "all things are states of consciousness," or that "all things 
can be known only in terms of consciousness," if this language is to 
have any rational meaning whatever, he must contend that motion is a 
state of consciousness and so identify the mental and physical in kind 
and deprive himself of logical grounds of opposition to materialism. 
In fact, the strongest possible proof of the materialist's contention 
would be the theory of idealism identifying the mental and physical, 
so that idealism would either have to accept the materialist's con- 
clusion against the persistence of consciousness or insist that its per- 
sistence is consistent with materialism. The identity between the 
mental and physical involved in the two theories can have no other 
outcome and opposition between them is securable only on the con- 



SPIRITUALISM. 455 

dition that they divide on the question of survival after death while they 
maintain the identity of tlie mental and physical ! Hence it is only 
the man who insists upon the validity of the two assumptions that 
material "phenomena" are all modes of motion and that mental 
"phenomena" are never this, that can consistently maintain the ex- 
istence of an independent subject for mental states. The materialist, 
after the contention of Hobbes and others that all physical "phe- 
nomena " were reducible to modes of motion, had applied the prin- 
ciple of material causation or the transmission of energy to explain 
mental "phenomena" and so had to imply that they were conse- 
quently modes of motion. Against this position parallelism might 
well contend if it succeeded in showing that mental and physical 
"phenomena" were not interconvertible. But there are two concep- 
tions of materialism, either of which parallelism does not effectively 
meet. The first is that which assumes that the causal nexus between 
the mental and physical is efficient and not necessarily or wholly ina- 
terial. The second is that which insists upon our introspective in- 
ability to determine a priori the nature of consciousness beyond the 
most superficial differences between it and physical "phenomena" in 
respect of their relation to motion. In the first of these positions ma- 
terialism does not have to decide anything one way or the other about 
the nature of consciousness, whether it is or is not a mode of motion. 
All that it need maintain is that motion or any other material action as 
an occasioning cause can elicit or instigate the occurrence of con- 
sciousness which may be treated as a function of the organism in 
which it occurs, just as physical activities may instigate the occur- 
rence of other and non-identical activities in independent material sub- 
jects without being convertible with them, especially in the light of the 
internal "forces" which, in chemistry, are supposed to account for 
qualitative manifestations that are not transmutations of the inciting 
agent. Thus I may light a candle or set off a powder magazine by a 
match and the effect is not the same in both cases, nor is it the mere 
transmission or transmutation of the energy in the match. The sub- 
ject in which the event occurs and the "force" that it contributes to 
the effect is an important factor in the result, so that, to carry out the 
analogy, the occasioning influence of an external physical cause may 
instigate the occurrence of consciousness in the organism without con- 
stituting it either qualitatively or quantitatively, and the organism 
might be the agent determining the nature of the qualitative reaction. 
This view is not answered by parallelism. Neither is the second con- 
ception of materialism any better refuted. All that introspection can 



456 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

do is to affirm that there is a difference between the mental and physi- 
cal in their sensible forms and not that they are ultimately opposed in 
nature. The assumption of the materialist, when he conceives all 
physical "phenomena" to be modes of motion, is that this identity is 
supersensible. He concedes the apparent differences. He may be 
wrong in his assumption of this reduction. "With that I have nothing 
to do, because any disposition to question it must rob the parallelist of 
his weapon against materialism, since the assumption that absolute dif- 
ferences of qualities in a material subject will logically defeat the argu- 
ment for a separate subject for consciousness. Hence the parallelist 
must accept the materialist's terms in regard to the identity at the basis 
of physical qualities, in order to gain a fulcrum of any kind against 
the assumption that consciousness is a mode of motion, while this con- 
cession simply opens the way for the materialist to contend that the 
apparent distinction between the mental and physical is not real and 
that their identity ultimately is quite as consistent as the ultimate 
identity of different material qualities, which the parallelist has to con- 
cede in order to secure his own premises. But when these are secured 
he may be confronted with the first conception of materialism which 
can concede that consciousness is not a mode of motion and yet main- 
tain that it is the resultant of composition and internal "forces" which 
are not the transmuted effect of stimulus. 

There are two things to be remembered here, though they have 
their logical value and cogency determined by their relation to existing 
assumptions in the atomic theory of matter. The present general con- 
ception of the atomic theory is that the elements are qualitatively dif- 
ferent and yet may be the subjects of different qualities. That is to 
say, it is assumed that simplicity of substance is not incompatible with 
complexity of attributes. If it were assumed that simplicity of sub- 
ject required corresponding simplicity, or singleness of qualities, the 
two things to which attention is to be called would be subject to quali- 
fication. But as the case of atomic conceptions now stands they 
represent fundamental postulates which determine the manner of 
stating the two criteria of judgment on the question of single and 
plural realities. The fi.rst thing, however, to be remembered is that a 
general diversity in kind of qualities is not evidence of a plurality of 
subjects, and the second is that a general similarity in kind of qualities 
is not evidence of a unity of subject. Now it is to be noticed that this 
latter statement is admitted to be a truism, while the former does not 
appear to be so truistic, although It actually is such in the light of 
present atomic conceptions. The simple reason for this Is that In the 



SPIRITUALISM. 457 

very conception of "similarity" {cf. table of categories, p. 127) 
plurality of subjects is involved and no one would think of supposing 
that a unity or singleness of subject was possible, where plurality was 
the condition of " similarity " and did not imply mathematical identity. 
But the habit of relying upon differences in physical science for the 
suggestion of complexity and therefore of other than the most apparent 
subject of the phenomenon leads to the tacit assumption that differences 
imply plurality of subjects. But the admission that an elementary unit 
or atom may be the subject of a variety of properties in no special 
respect similar to each other deprives the fact of difference of its evi- 
dential power in favor of plural subjects. Hence plurality of centers 
of reference must be determined by some other criterion. That is to 
say, in the present status of assumptions characterizing the atomic doc- 
trine, or any doctrine of elements, plurality of realities has first to be 
established in order to make the application of diversity of qualities 
even suggestive of plural subjects, and until that plurality has been 
established diversity of qualities is cjuite consistent with unity of sub- 
ject. The evidence of plurality lies, not in diversity of qualities, but 
in individuality^ or independent existence in space and time. The 
only conception that can dispute this contention is that of Herbart and 
of such atomists as may identify simplicity of substance with simplicity 
or singleness of qualities. On that assumption alone can the plurality 
of subjects be proved by difference of qualities. From this point of 
view materialism would be forced to choose between making all atoms 
qualitatively alike and modal differences the effects of composition, 
and making them qualitatively different to the extent of the qualitative 
differences of " phenomena." Now recently Sir Oliver Lodge, Sir 
William Crookes and others have declared for the possibility of the 
former alternative in which all differences in "knowledge" and 
" reality" are modal and not evidence of different kinds of subjects. 
That is to say, they declare for the absolute identity in kind of the 
atoms. The law of Mendelejeff, and other "phenomena" in the 
classification of the elements, seem to favor the same view, because 
they point to the application of evolution to the very elements and sug- 
gest this evolution from a single form of energy. But it does not 
matter whether this ultimate is one or many, whether our view be 
pluralistic or monistic (uno-monistic), as long as the phvsicist main- 
tains that such elements, relative or absolute, as we assume to the 
plural, are alike in kind instead of being qualitatively different. All 
qualitative differences would have to be explained as the resultants of 
composition. That is clear. We have seen, however, that on either 



458 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the monistic or pluralistic view the persistence of a ^oarticuhir mode or 
"phenomenon" will depend on the persistence of the compound, 
assuming the pluralistic position, or on the absence of change or meta- 
morphosis, on the monistic view. The circumstance that change is a 
recognized fact for both points of view shuts out spiritualism from 
adopting either of them for the defence of the persistence of conscious- 
ness, unless it could qualify metamorphosis in some mj-sterious way to 
suit its requirements, and without this persistence it does not require 
to controvert the materialistic theory for any practical purposes. On 
the other hand, if spiritualism should drive atomic materialism into the 
position that independent subjects must be coextensive with the differ- 
ential qualities of things, it would be obliged to adopt a qualitative 
difference between the atoms which would be far greater than our 
present atomic theory finds necessarv in limiting it to the seventv or 
more elements and make each atom the subject of a single quality, 
whether similar or diverse from others. This would necessitate the 
adoption of a separate subject for each species of mental state showing 
radically differential features, and the spiritualist would be no better 
off than before, as the consciousness representing his personality would 
have been dissolved into its elements and have no identit}- of the kind 
found in the bodily existence, while he would have to face the problem 
of evolution and metamorphosis for each individual subject in the 
result, even when he assumed that consciousness was simple and not 
analyzable into specific elements constituting a class or collective com- 
plex. It will not help to sav that the fundamental difference is 
between the " phenomena " of motion and those of consciousness, 
assuming that the subordinate species of each genus of mental state, 
intellection, emotion, and volition, can be reduced to one conferential 
function ; for I do not see that the distinction between intellect, feel- 
ing, and will, or between the several types of mental states in intellec- 
tion, sensation, perception and reasoning, involves any more unity of 
kind than the several functions of matter. That is, I do not see that 
the distinction between consciousness and motion is any greater than 
that between density and color, both of which are assuined to be modes 
of motion, and on the conception of atomism under consideration, are 
assumed to justify a separation of subjects for each differential qiiality. 
If this suggestion of qualitatively different atoms, caused by the differ- 
ences of attributes in matter in spite of their classification under motion, 
be either necessary or possible, equal specific differences for mental 
" phenomena " must point to the same conclusion, and the assumption 
of separate simple subjects for each functional aspect of the organic 



SPIRITUALISM. 459 

complex called consciousness would leave the spiritualist without any 
advantage, even on the conception of Tertullian, as the persistence of 
each individual subject would not preserve personal identity, unless 
this persistence took the form of the " spiritual body," when the ques- 
tion would be whether this persisted or not. If it did not the case 
would stand as it does with materialism. Besides the conception that 
all qualitative differences, postulated to secure a major premise for the 
independence of a mental subject and to deprive materialism of its 
appeal to resultants of composition for the explanation of "phe- 
nomena," require corresponding differences or individuality of subjects, 
forbids the unification of differences in the material world as well as 
in the mental, so that we should have to place motion on a par with 
other qualities of matter and as a distinct function of an individual 
type of atoms, so that some atoms would have no motion whatever. 
This would be a reductio ad absurdum of both atomism and material- 
ism. On the other hand, the admission that such radical differences 
as density and color, or affinity and taste, were inhesive qualities of the 
same subject would at least suggest a doubt about the right to dog- 
matize on the ultimate differences between consciousness and motion. 
But when the controversy between materialism and spiritualism is 
reduced to the question which I have just been discussing, namely, 
whether it is possible to conceive that consciousness is a mode of 
motion, we should discover either that the problem is insoluble or that 
materialism would prove itself elastic enough to change its contention 
and take some other assumption for its base. We must not forget 
that the whole force of the demand for a mental subject other than the 
organism, as made by parallelism, depends wholly upon the assump- 
tions that all "phenomena" of matter are modes of motion, a position 
often taken by materialism, as In Hobbes, and that consciousness is not a 
mode of motion, the position taken by parallelism. The first of these 
assumptions is conceded by the parallelist, if only for the sake of argu- 
ment, and the second assumption affirmed in order to escape materialism 
which assumes that consciousness is a mode of motion. But there is 
no more evidence for the materialist's assumption than there is for the 
parallelist's. Both can be disputed, as is shown by the various posi- 
tions and theories concerning the simplicity or complexity of atoms, 
where the possibility of classifying qualities does not affect the opinions 
of speculators and where difference rather than identity controls the 
Intellectual tendency. Besides there is no rigid necessity for materialism 
to suppose that all " phenomena" of matter are modes of motion. It 
had differences to account for In some way even when supposing that 



460 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

all material " phenomena" are reducible to motion of some kind, and 
it cannot treat these differences as " motion" which is the conferentia, 
but as either a concomitant factor as something attached to " motion," 
which is the identical element in the "phenomenon." Consequentlv, 
we have attached to its assumption of unity a distinction that prevents 
this unity from being universal or absolute. This once recognized 
simply leads to the result that there are functions of physical realities 
that are not modes of motions, though we admit that all which pro- 
duce effects maybe modes of motion, and if once the admission of 
functions that are not motion be admitted there would be no difficulty 
in supposing consciousness to be among them. Parallelism would 
then be reduced to the choice between supposing that the qualitative 
differences of " phenomena" indicated required the existence of atoms 
coextensive wdth the differences associated with motion in a complex 
organism, to save the persistence of consciousness, and supposing that 
similar differences between mental states demand equally different 
subjects, an assumption that would require us to maintain the integ- 
rity of a " spiritual" organism in order to sustain the unity and multi- 
plicity of consciousness as we know it. How he would sustain the 
integrity of such an organism any more than he can that of the ma- 
terial organism no one can see. If he could insist that consciousness 
was an absolutely simple thing, a view clear enough in its intension 
or abstract qualitative import, only one indivisible atom would be 
required to support it. But the term denotes a whole genus of 
specific states in the extensive or concrete quantitative import and 
would have to be treated as similar terms in the conception of material 
"phenomena" have to be treated. But grant that consciousness is 
simple and not a generic concept, with differential associations that 
might be used to demand the existence of Herbart's " reals " for each 
difference, the case would not be altered, since the reducibility of dif- 
ferential qualities in material "phenomena" to modes of motion is 
supposably compatible with very radical apparent differences that 
might admit the same reduction of consciousness, as the motion which 
unifies the sensible differences in the material world is quite as super- 
sensible a thing to conception or imagination as consciousness can be. 
Moreover, if materialism were pushed by the logic of the case to 
abandon its assumption that tr// "phenomena" of matter from the 
ver}' nature of the case must be modes of motion, a position which has 
all along been purely a priori and without evidence, as a condition of 
denying the persistence of consciousness after death, it would be found 
quite equal to the emergencv, as philosophic theories are capable of 



SPIRITUALISM. 461 

almost anything for the sake of maintaining the consistency of their 
traditional phraseology. It is easy to shift one's position and to main- 
tain the same phrases without the discovery of our conversion. Plus 
il change plus il est la ineme chose is a maxim that well expresses 
many of the intellectual movements in the history of philosophy. The 
success of parallelism depends upon accepting the materialist's assump- 
tion that all physical " phenomena " are modes of motion and deny- 
ing this reduction of consciousness, while the materialist might at any 
time have the courage to give up his unnecessary assumption and 
leave the whole ad rem argument to the parallelist whose duty it 
would be to prove both assumptions as a condition of having any 
premise to begin with against the extension of materialism to explain 
all differential "phenomena" without handicapping itself with their 
reduction to the modes of motion, but simply assuming that it has 
differences to account for in any case. 

I have gone thus into the analysis and discussion of parallelism and 
the ramifications of materialistic controversy and theory because paral- 
lelism has been the last resort and defence of the spiritualistic view in 
recent years, and because I regard it as wholly inadequate and irrele- 
vant to the problem. It obtains its whole force from its a priori as- 
sumptions and its ad hominem argument, both of which are liable to 
overthrow at any time, the first by the demand for evidence which has 
not been and cannot be furnished and the second by the materialist's 
abandonment of his major premise and the adoption of another with 
the same conclusion as before. Hence I do not regard parallelism as 
an adequate defence of spiritualism in any form. It is no doubt quite 
true that, if mind and matter are different kinds of substance or differ- 
ent kinds of subjects, as they would have to be in order to justify the 
use of two terms assumed not to be synonymous in any sense, their 
qualities would be different. But the fact that qualities are different 
from each other is not a conclusive evidence of a difference of subjects, 
and we might show as much as we please that physical " phenomena" 
were not convertible with the mental, unless we at the same time 
showed a complete interconvertibility of physical " phenomena" with 
each other there would be nothing to prevent materialism from denying 
the universality of material conversion and extending its principle to 
the relation between the mental and physical, making them both func- 
tions of the same subject without reciprocal or other convertibility. 
The existence of non-convertible " phenomena" in the material world, 
representing qualitative changes not explained by the conservation of 
energy, which, when properly defined, applies only to quantitative 



4<J2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

identity in change, and the compatibility of this non-convertibility of 
attributes with the unity and identity of subject, make it equally pos- 
sible that mental events might be functions of the organism without 
contradicting the conservation of energy, and in this case parallelism 
would have no claims against materialism. The possibilities being 
equal for and against a jDlurality of subjects there is no other course 
open than to endeavor to solve the problem by ascertaining whether it 
is 3. fact that consciousness exists independently of the bodily organism, 
as the attempt to decide it by determining-its nature only results in a 
priori speculations which are as good on one side as on the other, and 
being mutually opposed simply nullify each other. 

I am not disputing the natural impressiveness of the appeal to the 
difference bet\vcen mental and physical " phenomena," as \ye know 
them, for evidence of plural or dual subjects. I am only disputing 
the right to depend upon it as in any way conclusive or to connect it 
\vith the denial of material causality between the mental and physical 
as the sole source of reliance for its conclusion when the supposition of 
efficient causal nexus between them has not been met and which is all 
that materialism needs for its vindication. It is the possibility of this 
last conception, that of efficient causes, and their connection with the 
influence of internal action of the organism which modern science con- 
ceives very differently from antiquit}-, that opens a way for the ma- 
terialistic theory yvdiich parallelism cannot meet. It simply accepts 
this parallelism and converts it into a defence of materialism. AVe 
have the whole field of chemistry and physiology and what they have 
established to deal with in the problem. The marvelous metamor- 
phoses of matter exhibited by chemistry illustrating the appearance of 
new qualities due to composition, or even due only to variations of 
conditions without composition, as in allotropism, and without new 
elements in a compound, as in isomerism, or metals in liquid air and 
the equally marvelous functions of a physiological organism which are 
not consciousness within the accepted meaning of that term, — all these 
show that we have before us a problem quite different from that of 
early Christianity. The traditional relation between the "soul" and 
the body was that of a tenant and was as old as Plato, and was even 
that of Epicurus and the materialists. This relation was conceived as 
a "mechanical" relation, according to the terms of chemical usage, 
one that would not involve any change of character or metamorphosis 
either In the proximity of another element or in the separation from it. 
With such an artificial conception before it, the most natural tendency 
of the human mind would be to determine a difference of subjects by 



SPIRITUALISM. 4^3 

a difference of " phenomena" associated in the same collective whole, 
especially if any special moral or religious ideas and hopes were inter- 
ested in the result. But the moment that chemistry and physiology 
came in with their conception of an ot-ganic as distinct from that of a 
collective whole, a view much less nearly allied to the old " mechani- 
cal " composition of the ancient materialists, which was apparently in- 
sufficient to explain all the "phenomena," the case was altered. In 
the entire organic world of living beings and the inorganic world of 
chemical compounds, science has found a system of metamorphoses 
due to chemical laws that exhibit almost any capacity to exercise func- 
tions or manifest attributes not found in the elements. This is a con- 
ception that is wholly independent of the doctrine of the conservation 
of energy, because the facts represent qualitative changes for which 
there is no pretense of explanation by that doctrine. It is not thought 
for one moment that material causation applies to these qualitative 
modifications of matter, and the limitations which the fact imposes 
upon the theory of conservation confine it to the quantitative identity 
of the "mechanical" forces and qualitative or metamorphic changes 
remain outside its purview and action, involving conceptions that no 
amount of refutation directed against material causation can reach. 
Now parallelism cannot pretend to meet the objections created by this 
conception of causal change, involving as it does the idea of external 
efficient action and internal reaction or metamorphosis. All that it 
could question was the alleged material identitv between mental and 
physical "phenomena." It is true that, as already admitted, this 
would be an overthrow of the "mechanical" philosophy which af- 
firmed that identity, but only in so far as that philosophy was made 
convertible with material causation. Since materialism, however, in 
its last analvsis does not depend wholly upon a material causal nexus 
between mental and physical events, the spiritualist has to meet the 
new conception which is founded upon qualitative metamorphosis and 
which is presumably not the result of transmission or conservation. 
This new position assumes that consciousness might as easily be an in- 
cident or resultant, " epiphenomenon," of composition as any other 
qualitative modification, especially if materialism should abandon the 
reduction of physical "phenomena" to modes of motion and suppose 
that matter is capable of functions not conceived as motion in any 
form. 

Parallelism thus fails to achieve its desired victory simply because 
materialism depends upon more than one assumption. As has already 
been remarked when discussing materialism (p. 402), the proper 



464 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

course of parallelism was not to have denied the materialist's applica- 
tion of "mechanical" or material causation, but to have pressed its 
ad Jwminem value for logical deductions which were just the contrarv 
of what the materialist supposed, instead of conceding an assumption 
about the reducibility of all physical " phenomena " to modes of motion 
which ought never to have been granted and instead of accepting respon- 
sibility for an ad rem argument to prove that consciousness was not such 
a mode, a negative proposition which can never be proved. In other 
words the parallelist ought to have exposed the contradiction between 
the materialist's principle and his conclusion, the first being different 
from and the second being the same as the old materialism. The meta- 
morphosis of the old materialism having been abandoned in the con- 
ception of the conservation of energy the same conclusion should not 
have been drawn. The parallelist should have accepted the challenge 
which the conservation of energy presented and instead of trying to 
limit it he should have pressed its necessary consequences, applying 
it with the universality which was claimed for it and thus insisted that 
the qualitative changes involved in the process of evolution involved no 
loss of identity whatever on the theory, and hence that consciousness was 
as much an element of the antecedent as the antecedent, motion, was 
an element of consciousness. The assumption of material causation 
with its implication of identity between the t^^'o terms of the series 
would have obliged the materialist to admit in the antecedent the same 
fact that he found in the consequent. There would have been abso- 
lutely no escape from this conclusion short of an abandonment of the 
qualitative interpretation of the conservation of energy. The materi- 
alist cannot apply material causation or identitv to the relation between 
physical and mental "phenomena," or motion and consciousness, 
without accepting in it the full meaning of consciousness, the second 
term of the series, as well as the physical, the first term, that is, without 
admitting that the phvsical is as much of the nature of consciousness as 
the mental is of the nature of motion. The last term in the series of evo- 
lution, on the theory of conservation, has at least as much significance as 
the first and actuallv must be said to have been contained in it, so that 
the materialist cannot admit a qualitative difference of any kind between 
the terms of this series without giving up the universality of his ex- 
planatory principle. He cannot, on the theorv of conservation inter- 
preted as implying qualitative identitv between the antecedent and 
consequent, exclude consciousness from motion and introduce it as 
a new moment in the series. He must make as much of con- 
sciovisness as motion and treat their identitv as his principle re- 



SPIRITUALISM. 465 

quires, instead of implying their identity in one breatli and denying 
it in another. 

But when materialism was pressed with the difficulties of its doc- 
trine its advocates frankly limited its application to the quantitative 
identity of antecedent and consequent, and admitted that it did not 
explain qualitative change or imply qualitative identity between the 
terms of the series causally related. Parallelism is thus eviscerated of 
its entire cogency. As soon as this concession was made and materi- 
alism based upon the possibility of the qualitative changes to internal 
" forces " in composition, it was not refutable by any denial of the 
universality of the conservation of energy or material causation. The 
parallelist had taken precisely the course opposite to that calculated to 
defend the theory he was opposing. It was simply because the con- 
servation of energy did not apply qualitatively to antecedent and 
consequent that consciousness might be a function of the physical or- 
ganism as the subject in which alone it occurred, at least in so far as 
the evidence was concerned. If it had been merely the transferred 
"phenomenon" of the external agent, retaining its identity in its 
transitions, it would require no identical subject for its own nature 
and persistence, but would be an eternal mode of action without regard 
to a change of subjects through which it was transmitted. A doctrine 
of reincarnation might be conceivable on this assumption, though it 
might be unlike the systems actually adopted. Of course this trans- 
mission from subject to subject would imply an eternal past for the 
individual consciousness and so would be confronted with the fact that 
there is no mnemonic unity or connection between consequent and an- 
tecedent, a fact which ought not to exist on the supposition of qualita- 
tive identity and which actually disproves that identity, reinstating the 
old problem of qualitative change and admitting no other type of iden- 
tity and persistence than Plato's transmigration or reincarnation with 
metempsychosis, a conclusion which abandons both the qualitative con- 
servation of energy and the permanence of personal identity. 

The real force and meaning of the doctrine of the conservation of 
energy, whether qualitatively or quantitatively interpreted, was due to 
its controversion of the theory of creation applied to matter and motion, 
and not to its controversion of either the existence or the persistence of 
mind other than the organism. I have just indicated that the logical 
consequence of a thoroughgoing doctrine of conservation results in the 
affirmation of an eternal consciousness in the past as well as future, but 
that, apparently agreeable as this might seem to the spiritualist's desire 
to protect the persistence of consciousness, it was in conflict with the 
^o 



466 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

fact that there was no mnemonic connection between the past and 
jDresent and no promise of any between the present and future, so that 
what the spiritualist might gain by an ad Jiotninein argument with the 
materialist he lost by consideration of the facts and simply created an 
issue which both parties had to face in the consideration of a doctrine 
that did not meet the demand made upon it. What the parallelist 
ought to have seen was that the materialist's theoiy of the conservation 
of energy controverted the creation of matter and motion without neces- 
sarily controverting the persistence of consciousness which followed as a 
necessary consequence of the doctrine. All that the facts would prove 
was the inconsistency of this conclusion with them and the error of the 
materialist's assumption about material causation, nullifying the univer- 
sality of his theory of conservation and simply opening the way for scep- 
ticism regarding the persistence of consciousness. The business of the 
parallelist was to refute materialism by its consequences, not by a denial 
of its premises. The spiritualist's problem is the persistence of con- 
sciousness without regard to the question of creation, and he has the doc- 
trine of inertia in his favor, this doctrine being one form of conservation. 
The doctrine of inertia is that a body remains in its present condition 
"whether of motion or rest, unless exposed to external interference. 
There is no necessity on this assumption of an eternal past in order to 
secure immortality, but only of a present existence and assurance that 
there is nothing to interfere with the continuance of it. The authors of 
the '•''Unseen Universe''^ maintained that what had a beginning must 
necessarily have an end, but this is flatly in contradiction with their 
doctrine of inertia which does not deny a beginning but admits the pos- 
sibility of a permanence after a beginning, if there is no external inter- 
ference to prevent it. It avails nothing to say that there is always an 
external interference, because this is a question of fact and not necessity. 
It is simply a question of fact whether a cause interferes with the present 
order to discontinue it, so that spiritualism is independent of the for- 
tunes of a theory of creation, which involves a beginning but not 
necessarily an end, unless the doctrine of inertia is abandoned. Its 
position had to be consistent with the fact that there is no mnemonic 
unity of consciousness with a past presupposed by the assumptions of 
the conservation of energy, and it had only to use the doctrine of inertia 
to prevent an absolute denial of its possibility in spite of creation, while 
it could also use the absence of this mnemonic unity with the past to 
controvert the implications of the materialist's doctrine of material 
causation, though he has no interest but this fact in controverting it. 
It was the extension of the idea of indestructibilitv to motion after it 



SPITITUALISM. 4^7 

had been proved of matter that gave the theory of conservation its 
meaning against the notion of creation. As long as science had proved 
only the indestructibility of matter, the way was open to maintain, at 
least a priori^ that motion had a beginning and in this way sustain the 
theistic origin of the " phenomenal " world, according to the Aristote- 
lian conception of the case, in the orderly adjustment and collocation 
of cosmic realities. But the conservation of energy, even on its merely 
quantitative interpretation, at least appeared to contradict all concep- 
tions of a creation, and if it assumed that qualitative changes were due 
to the action of internal "forces," it required no such creation as the 
theist maintained, as the quantity of energy was eternal and the quali- 
tative changes assumed were not due to a foreign initial act with the 
supposition of inertia afterward to sustain an unchanged order. The 
materialist simply appropriated a kind of creatio continua which the 
theist should never have permitted him to assume. But having dis- 
covered the indestructibility of matter and motion, in some sense of the 
term, this result seemed to make the spiritualistic theory of absolute 
genesis, in its theistic assumptions, unnecessary, and as the materialistic 
theory was the only alternative, all the implications associated with it, 
both theistic and psychological, were assumed without reflection to fol- 
low. These implications were a purely ' ' mechanical " interpretation of 
physical "phenomena" and the subordination of consciousness to the 
material organism as a function of it. In accepting this conclusion 
several things were forgotten : (i) that the only reason for assuming a 
permanent inijnaterial reality was the assumption that both the sensible 
and supersensible worlds of matter were transient ; (2) that the reason 
for assuming an immaterial reality for the support of consciousness was 
the interest in preserving its persistence while matter was made a created 
and perishable thing; (3) that the doctrine of inertia made the per- 
sistence of consciousness consistent with the idea of creation or a begin- 
ning in time and rendered it unnecessary to postulate the eternity of the 
subject of consciousness in the past as a condition of its persistence in 
the future ; (4) that when matter and motion were discovered, through 
the conservation of energy, to be permanent, there was no reason for 
insisting upon the existence of an immaterial mind or substance as a 
condition of the persistence of consciousness, and that either the posi- 
tion of Tertullian or that of the " spiritual body " afforded as good an 
a priori basis for the philosophic doctrine as the one of an immaterial 
psychical substance actually adopted. Spiritualism ought to have shown 
itself quite as elastic as its opponent has been, but when defeated at one- 
point it has simply invented some new hypothesis worse than the first 



468 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and kept up a controversy when it might have deftly applied the logic 
of materialism to its own assumptions and either to have gotten spiritual- 
istic conclusions within materialistic doctrines or to have shown that 
these consequences were incompatible with the facts, and thus to have 
thrown upon materialism the burden of proof instead of accepting this 
unenviable task itself. 

But it was precisely because qualitative changes and modifications 
were not explained by the conservation of energy and the principle of 
identity at the basis of the indestructibility of matter and motion, that 
some theory of genesis, whether cosmic or psychological, was made 
logically possible and imperative. Whether a cosmic creation was 
probable or not, there were but two alternatives open in the case, after 
the necessary admission that personal identity had no past existence. 
They were: (i) the creation of the soul by God as something not 
self-existent, and (2) the explanation of consciousness as a function of 
organization. The first, with the assumption of inertia permitted a 
natural immortality, and the second would not permit it on any suppo- 
sition but a theory of a physical resurrection. Both points of vie\v 
made the result wholly contingent and provisional, either of them per- 
fectly consistent with its annihilation, so that the last resort for sur- 
vival after death was proof of the fact^ and not its necessity from 
premises which were either extremely dubious or inconclusive, if true. 
That is to say, qualitative changes either from internal "forces" of the 
organism or from the immediate action of God offered suggestions of 
transiency either from necessity or the will of the creator, so that a 
natural immortality consonant with a theory of creation would have to 
prove a subject other than the brain to obtain its conclusion, a super- 
natural theory of a resurrection being required upon the materialistic 
assumption that consciousness was a function of the organism. x\nd 
hence the only way to prove the existence of this independent subject 
would be to prove 'CciO.fact that consciousness survived death, allowing 
the independence of its subject to go as a matter of consequence, and 
not to insist merely vipon the " phenomenal " difference between men- 
tal and physical qualities, both of which might be the resultant of 
organization, whether natural or supernatural, and without qualitative 
identity in causal changes the transmission of consciousness intact to 
other subjects would not occur. 

In another connection I shall raise the question whether the doc- 
trine of the conservation is even quantitatively true in the sense of 
identity between the terms of the causal series, and whether the meta- 
physics of modern science can even maintain that even matter and 



SPIRITUALISM. 469 

motion are indestructible. It will suffice here, however, keeping this 
sceptical question in abeyance or in reservation, to call attention to the 
fact that its advocates had to concede its incapacity for explaining 
qualitative changes, and then merely to suggest that its quantitative in- 
terpretation may be subject to revision and modification. It will be 
apparent, therefore, that if the whole theory of conservation be ques- 
tionable the materialistic theory gains everything, provided that it 
remains by the theory of efficient causation and qualitative subjective 
changes and metamorphoses, except that it will be exposed to theistic 
attack, on the ground that inertia will admit no increase of energy or 
result in a " mechanical" system. But with no necessity for maintain- 
ing the conservation of energy either quantitatively or qualitatively and 
vv'ith an elastic interpretation of efficient causation it might limit the 
application of inertia to the "phenomena" of motion, while the the- 
istic position would throw the whole responsibility for the outcome of 
the process of evolution upon the character and the plan of the creator. 
It is especially noticeable, however, that parallelism has not exer- 
cised itself vigorously in behalf of a theistic solution of the problem. 
It was concerned with a " naturalistic" theory of it, and so based its 
argument vipon a decision regarding the nature of consciousness and 
its relation to physical causation. The reason for taking this course 
is a simple one. Any other view required it to assume that con- 
sciousness was a function of the organism and perished with it, unless 
a theory of a physical resurrection could be maintained. This latter 
view involved the proof of a theistic theory of the cosmos, or at least 
of the organism, and the interveiation of the creator to reproduce at 
some time after death the conditions which would i"ender possible re- 
occurrence of the consciousness that has been suspended during the 
interval more or less prolonged. This view might recommend itself 
to an age which believed in " cycles" of existence repeating the past 
in all its details, but it could not be very acceptable to an age in which 
progress and evolution with their implication of increments of gain 
and advance were the primary assumptions. Hence there was no 
recourse but to try some view which made the survival of conscious- 
ness a natural consequence of the dissolution of the organism when its 
subject was spiritual and either not material or not a composite dis- 
solvable organisin. But I have indicated enough to show that I do 
not regard the method of parallelism as either adequate or legitimate 
for proving the existence of a mental subject other than the organism 
and that at best it can have but an ad hominem value for pressing 
assumptions which are not proved. It will require more evidence 



470 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

than the a priori and introspective assertion that consciousness is 
neither a mode of motion nor possibly a resultant of organic composi- 
tion to settle this problem. I grant that the differences which it ob- 
serves and emphasizes between mental and physical "phenomena" 
are entitled to some weight in the formation of convictions, because 
the contrast between the two kinds of events is so great. I am not at 
all impressed with any such relation between them as the identity of their 
subject might seem to imply. If I were asked whether I believed that 
consciousness was a mode of motion I would say that I did not believe it 
and that I could not conceive how it should be. But I should also 
say that I did not know what it might be. I have to remind myself 
that it was not long ago in history when men thought that it was im- 
possible that sound and color were subjective events and that it was 
absurd to suppose that, objectively considered, they were mere vibra- 
tions. But it has turned out that what was assumed to be absurd and 
false is a fact and not absurd at all, at least as now understood. Be- 
sides if the parallelist can conceive with the physicist that all phvsical 
" phenomena" are reducible to modes of motion, in spite of the radi- 
cal differences between them, he might have some humility in regard 
to the nature of consciousness, after the experience of a priori and 
introspective opinion with sound and color. The sensible is tran- 
scended in one case and may be possible in the other, so that the sen- 
sible conception of consciousness as a " phenomenon" may not be the 
final one. Hence I do not see adequate reasons for being dogmatic in 
my interpretation of the nature of consciousness. I am even willing 
to concede that such differences as we actually observe may incline 
toward the belief of an independent subject for mental states or sug- 
gest it, but I dispute the supposition that they "prove" it in any 
cogent way until we know more about the nature of supersensible 
" phenomena," and consciousness in particular, than we do now. 

If the problem is solvable at all ; if there is any rational procedure 
that will determine the balance one wav or the other, as against the 
more or less equal possibilities left in the discussions of philosophic 
materialism and spiritualism, it must come from science or scientific 
method in the adduction of new facts. This method, whether it have 
promise of success or not, would investigate to see if there were any 
evidence that consciousness actually did survive the dissolution of the 
organism or not, instead of speculating about the nature of it in dubious 
terms. It would apply to psychological "phenomena" the same 
method of isolation or difference which has been so fruitful and suc- 
cessful in the physical sciences and which is the ultimate source of 



SPIRITUALISM. 47 1 

proof in that field. If it were once proved that consciousness actually 
did survive death we should know nothing more about its nature than 
we do now, and we might not even require to discuss the question 
whether it had a subject at all. If it actually survived the question 
whether it was a pure "phenomenon," or the function of an imma- 
terial subject or some " spiritual body," material or immaterial, simple 
or complex, would be a problem relegated to the same limbo as the 
scholastic question about the number of angels on a needle point. The 
trouble with the usual philosophic method is that it does not recognize 
its own limitations. Sometimes it can do nothing more than examine 
the existing body of real or apparent "knowledge" without adding 
anything to it, and usually it can only establish the possibility of cer- 
tain truths as against the dogmatic denial of the contrary. At no time 
has It been able to give any assurance on the fundamental problems 
which excite the most Intense human interest, simply because it lacked 
the definite facts to prove its case. Its value I am not questioning, 
but only its claim to a certitude which it does not possess. Its limita- 
tions In the special problem before us are determined by the circum- 
stance that the " phenomena," whose nature is supposed to i"equire an 
independent subject, are always associated with a physical organism of 
a transient character and the limits of whose capacities for functional 
action have not been exactly determined. Hence the conclusion which 
it draws from the distinction between mental and physical events should 
be held with the reservations that are attached to all uncertain Induc- 
tions, especially when there are no positive facts on the other side. 
" Proof" can be obtained only by Isolating mental " phenomena " from 
this physical environment which must always be treated as a possible 
cause of them vmtil thus eliminated from a determining influence oa 
the production of consciousness. f 

The strength of the materialistic position is determined by two gen- 
eral considerations. The first Is the general evidential situation, whlch. 
Is simply the fact that, not having attempted to deal with the residual 
" phenomena " that profess to Isolate consciousness, science observes 
that mental and physical events in the individual have always been as- 
sociated and never dissociated from the relation of coexistence and se- 
quence. The second consideration is the explanatory one and consists 
of the mass of facts which show the Indefinite possibilities of oro-anic 
functions for explaining the genesis of "phenomena" associated with 
the body and terminating with it. These two considerations show 
that materialism conforms, at least provisional^ and generally, to the 
two fundamental conditions of a theory, namely, that It should ex- 



472 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

plain in terms of the known and that it should have e\'idence. I shall 
take up each of these in its order. 

Men have a choice in the adoption of their convictions. They may 
rely u^^on personal experience or upon authority ; that is, upon their 
•own reason or upon the reason of others. In the last analysis these 
alternatives reduce themselves to the one, jDersonal experience, as the 
individual has himself to decide what authority he shall accept and he 
does this on the basis of some kind of rational grounds weak or strong. 
The widest standard which any one can adopt and which ^vill ultimately 
regulate cautious and reflective intelligence, when not determined by 
the general rationale of things, is that which reduces to the simple 
question of human experience and the uniform way in which convic- 
tions of an assured nature are accepted and established in everv day 
life. This, briefly defined, is simply the method of association and 
dissociation. Things that are always associated and never dissociated 
are treated as necessarily connected. If I find in my experience that I 
always require a door or a window through which to pass as an en- 
trance or exit of mv house and that I cannot make this entrance or exit 
through the solid wall, I am careful to see that a usable house has doors 
and windows. When it comes to the problem of immortality or the 
existence of a soul other than the organism the question will be de- 
cided by the same principle that decides the most common beliefs. 
Thus if I believe that the clouds are a cause of rain it is because I have 
always seen them wdien it is raining and I have not seen rain ^vhen 
they or the proper condensible vapor are absent. If I fovnid it rain- 
ing at times wdien there were no condensible vapors suspended in the 
air, I should not be in haste to attribute the cause to clouds and appro- 
priate thermal conditions. It Is the uniform association of rain with 
condensible vapor that forms and confirms my convictions regarding 
the cause of it. The same general process can be illustrated bv the 
relation between death and organic growth ; bv the relation between 
carbon and oxygen in ordinary combustion, and by hundreds of similar 
examples. They all illustrate the general formula that when ^5" follows 
A and does not follow the absence of y4, ceteris faribiis^ A is the 
cause of B^ and B must disappear with the disappearance of A^ pro- 
vided that it is a function oi A. If ^ is an organism brought into 
existence by A it may remain after A has disappeared, but if it is a 
modal act or " phenomenal" function of A^ an attribute of it in its 
sensible form, then B must disappear ^vith the disappearance of A. 
The redness of an apple disappears with the chemical decomposition 
of the organic whole. The luminosity of a light disappears with the 



SPIRITUALISM. 473 

cessation of combvistion. In all the affairs of life this criterion is the 
natural and necessary standard for rational belief, and our assurance in 
every case is proportioned to the degree of isolation that has been ob- 
tained for the cause and effect. 

Now if this principle of conviction is applied to consciousness it 
means simply that we have always known consciousness in connection 
with a physical organism and, apart from the claims based upon a 
large mass of generally discredited " phenomena," we have never known 
consciousness to exist in isolation from the organism. Consequently 
there seems to be no natural inference in such a case but that conscious- 
ness is a function of the organism and perishable with it. The fact is 
so universal and without exception that argument on the other side 
seems impossible. 

This hypothesis, so overwhelmingly supported by the evidential 
situation, is variously confirmed by the manifold facts of physiology 
which serve to supply the explanatory agents in the case. The vari- 
ous effects of lesion, of accident, of disease, and of experiment with 
narcotics and anaesthetics or vivisection show us that both the existence 
and integrity of our mental states are so conditioned by physical causes 
that we seem compelled to regard them as functions of the body. The 
whole field of abnormal psychology and especially of insanity, which 
is so generally accompanied by definite lesions in the nervous system, 
appears overwhelmingly in favor of materialism. The specific struc- 
ture of the nervous system which will not admit states of consciousness 
unless definitely correlated with physical stimuli of a specific kind 
points in the same direction. The supposed soul can have no visual 
experiences without a specially constructed nerve for them. It is the 
same with the tactual, auditory and other senses. Still further the fact 
of sleep is a most significant " phenomenon " suggesting this purely 
functional relation of consciousness to the organism. It is presumably 
the suspension and disappearance of consciousness, right in the midst 
of life, indicating the cessation of functions which may be resumed 
under the proper physical conditions. On no theory whatever in this 
" phenomenon" can we suppose that consciousness, as we know it, is 
uninterrupted by sleep. The disappearance of consciousness by sleep, 
but for its reciuTence, is as complete as it can be supposed to be at 
death. The only apparent difference between them is that the vital 
functions continue in the one and are discontinued in the other. No 
one questions the total disappearance of the vital functions at death, 
and as it is not easy to suppose that the soul leaves the body, like a 
tenant, during sleep and returns afterward, especially as there are no 



474 ^^^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

mnemonic data indicating an extra-bodily experience of consciousness 
during the interval, the most natural interpretation of sleep is that it is 
merely suspended physical function, which simply becomes permanent 
in death. The absence of a mnemonic connection between the bodily 
consciousness and what any one might suppose to be continued mental 
action during sleep rather indicates that the evidential considerations 
are in favor of sleep being nothing but suspended functions of the 
brain. Hence it would not alter the case to suppose that the soul 
simply leaves the body during sleep to return at its pleasure or when 
the bodily functions will permit, because there is no consciousness of 
such a removal and no known continuance of personal consciousness 
during any assumed extra-bodily existence, as should be the case if 
sleep were not a suspended function. Consequently, there is no evi- 
dence in normal experience of continued existence independent of the 
body in either sleep or death, that is, of the fact which would be the 
only possible phenomenon suggesting a non-material subject or con- 
tinued existence in spite of the suspended vital functions. Rather 
the absence of any consciousness of this continued existence as sup- 
posed possible is evidence against the assumption. This consciousness 
is as much suspended by sleep when the soul is supposed to leave the 
body, on this theory, as when it is supposed to be connected with the 
organism, and consequently personal identitv, in the characteristic that 
interests us most and makes existence important, is as much lost by this 
assumed emigration as by the mere cessation of function, so that the 
survival of the soul on the supposition that it simply departs from the 
body during sleep has no value for us whatever and inight suggest 
that the same result occurs at death, personal identity in its only im- 
portant feature being lost and the mere substance surviving as with 
the indestructibility of matter. We should only be holding fast to the 
shell while we abandoned the kernel in thus maintaining the persistence 
of the soul without any conscious link with the past. The real question 
that interests us is whether consciousness as we know it in our personal 
identity sui'vives death. If it is temporarilv suspended by sleep and 
accident or disintegrated by disease, the probability would seem to be 
that it was permanently suspended by death. 

The whole history of organic life and of the "phenomena" of 
chemistry and physiology furnishes illustration of what composition 
can explain in the cause and suspension of functions. It is not, as it 
was with the Greeks, a question whether all matter was animated, but 
the question whether we require to suppose more than the actions and 
reactions of elements in composition to explain the difference between 



SPIRITUALISM. 475 

inorganic and organic bodies. Chemistry shows us that we do not 
require to suppose that specific functions can or must characterize 
matter in all its conditions in order to explain the appearance and dis- 
appearance of certain properties, and hence that "phenomena" may 
occur which cannot be traced to a material cause in the antecedent in 
any sense that it is identical in kind with the effect as produced, and 
that there are limitations to the capacities of matter to produce effects, 
showing that variant functions may arise with variation of composi- 
tion. All these facts apparently show that matter has capacities in 
composition to sufficiently account for the nature and occurrence of 
consciousness without supposing a special subject, atom, or system of 
atoms other than the organism. No facts but the residual " phenom- 
ena " of a debatable province clearly contradict either the evidential or 
the explanatory maxims which I have laid down as conditioning ra- 
tional conviction on the subject. 

Now the question is whether spiritualism can present any satisfac- 
tory counter claims to evidence that seems so overwhelming against it. 
As presented above, materialism has appeared to have no competitor. 
But in spite of this I think it must be confessed by all candid persons 
that there are some things to be said on the other side, even though 
they may not have much force, things too that cannot be attributed to 
the obstinacy of personal interest, as this is so constantly charged to 
spiritualism. There is no doubt that the trouble with spiritualism has 
too often been that it was open to the charge of constructing its theory 
out of deference to a personal interest in immortality and of evading 
the cogency of facts in contravention of this doctrine, while it was 
assumed that materialism had no such personal interest in support of 
its claims. The materialist could always play the role of a stoic in the 
face of nature when he had a moral character and felt the impulses of 
an idealism that wanted to look beyond it, but had not the facts to 
assure itself. This courage in connection with a fine morality is always 
attractive and the spiritualist wants the virtue while he maintains a 
philosophy which makes it superfluous. But if the materialist is a 
hero and the spiritualist is a coward it is easy to predict which way 
admiration and proselytism will go. Hence in the situation which 
accrues to the virtue of a courageous submission to facts, the spiritu- 
alist has always been exposed to the suspicion of timidity and personal 
interest in the advocacy of his theory, a disposition which science re- 
quires to have eliminated before the truth can be seen and rightly ap- 
preciated. Science is supposed to be impersonal, to depend upon 
those qualities of mind and will which the Christian has exalted in the 



47 '^ '^'Ji^ pi(oblem:s of philosophy. 

virtues of patience, faith and submission to an order not his own. 
This disposition appears to contradict the intense personal interest 
which is in such danger of governing the belief in spiritual realities, 
especially when it is exercised in behalf of one's own survival after 
death. Consequently until the spiritualist can coolv face the scientific 
objections to his theory, frankly admit the strength of the materialistic 
doctrine, and show himself ready to sacrifice the personal and moral 
considerations that so often move to controversy with the materialist, 
he is not likely to obtain respect for his position. Moreover, the ma- 
terialist should not forget that personal interests have often as much 
dominated his speculations as those of his antagonist, thouo-h thev 
were not of the same kind. The force of his imputation lav in the 
assumption that the love of life and its continuance bevond death is not 
only the strongest of instincts, but is such as to rob the individual of 
courage in facing the facts of experience, while he posed as a stoic and 
hero. But it is possible to be as devoted to an incarnate life as the 
religious man is enamored of the future. If a belief in a discarnate 
existence should put limitations to the instincts of libertinism or serve 
to suggest a check to temptations which a fine conscience must scorn, 
it is easy to see that the predominance of what the Christian calls 
"carnal desires" might constitute a personal interest worse than the 
spiritualist's desire to continue consciousness bevond the grave in a 
sublimated and ethereal happiness. Hence it is not ^vell to indulge in 
criminations when creating the temper which has to judge facts. It 
is possible for materialism to be as much handicapped by prejudice as 
spiritualism. The two theories have been closelv identified with dif- 
ferent moral ideals and this fact may prejudice one as much as the 
other. The bad reputation which Epicureanism has possessed in the 
estimation of many good people was due to the later development of 
that school into the debaucheries which were associated, rightly or 
wrongly, with the denial of immortality, and showed that " this- 
worldliness " might be even as bad as " other-worldliness." The sci- 
entific position must be an impersonal one in relation to both sides, 
though I think it true that spiritualism must have a harder time elim- 
inating the possibility of prejudicial criminations against itself than the 
materialistic theory, because the love of existence, separated from cer- 
tain specific theological theories, is so strong and diverting in its moral 
effects on trvie conduct, that it would seem to be an evidence of sound 
judgment that it had been eradicated in the acceptance of materialism 
and a source of error eliminated. 

But in spite of all real or apparent difficulties suggested by the 



SPIRITUALISM. ^'J'J 

possibility of illegitimate motives in the formation of belief on this 
matter we cannot discredit facts by ridiculing the believer for cowardice 
nor afford to display any more bigotry and dogmatism on the negative 
side of the question than on the affirmative, and there are facts which 
can be urged in favor of the spiritualistic theory that consciousness 
has a subject other than the brain. I shall not say that these facts 
prove the survival of this personal consciousness as much as they favor 
the supposition of an energy other than the organism. Spiritualism 
has a double problem to solve. First, it has to explain the present 
"phenomena" of consciousness and it might require a " soul" to do 
this, whether it be regarded as simple or complex. Secondly, if it is 
practically or morally different from materialism, it has to show that 
consciousness as w^ell as the soul survives death. It may be that it 
can effect nothing more than to produce inductive evidence that the 
brain or organism is not the subject of consciousness. But whether 
it can effect more or not, it is certain that, apart from evidence of the 
actual survival of consciousness, the only possible course open to 
philosophy is to ascertain whether there are any facts which suggest 
as rational the belief that consciousness is not a function of the organ- 
ism, but an activity of some other subject. The following considera- 
tions certainly have their weight in this direction, although they are 
merely negative and depend upon certain apparent weaknesses of the 
materialistic theory. 

I . The first fact is the consistency of a spiritualistic theory with all 
the facts of normal and abnormal psychology the latter of which are 
supposed to dispute it. The existence of a soul is not incompatible 
with disturbances in its own normal functions by its relation to irregu- 
lar conditions in its material organism and environment. In any sort 
of relation between two different realities, whether of the same or dif- 
ferent kinds, it would be quite natural that the functional action of the 
one should be affected by that of the other. This is a universal fact 
in material compounds, or even in mechanical mixtures, and hence it 
is not a conclusive argument against the existence of a given reality 
that it does not act in a normal way, if the conditions are disturbed 
under which it usually acts in a particular way. Forcible as the argu- 
ment from abnormal psychology is in favor of materialism, suggesting 
an organic relation between consciousness and the brain, it is not con- 
clusive for the simple reason that the phenomena would be nearly or 
exactly the same, if a soul existed in the organism, as any theory of 
causation whatever would involve reciprocal disturbances in either 
subject when the other was out of harmony. The only fact that pre- 



47S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sents definite logical cogency at this point against spiritualism is the 
"phenomenon" of sleep. Sleep bears against the survival of per- 
sonal consciousness, if it has any force at all, and against the existence 
of a subject other than the brain to account for present consciousness. 
If a subject other than the brain be admitted at all, there is no more 
difiiculty in supposing the suspension of consciousness and its revival 
after death than there is of its suspension and revival in the organism. 
Sleep is not an objection to spiritualism, if once a subject other than 
the brain is conceded. It can only create a suspicion that consciousness 
is a function of the brain and not of an extrabodily substance or 
subject. 

2. The materialist, except when he presses to the last extremitvthe 
principle of material or " mechanical" causation, the conservation of 
energy qualitatively considered, does not assume or concede the pres- 
ence of consciousness in all matter or material combinations. It is 
presumably absent from the atomic elements and all inorganic com- 
pounds. That is, consciousness is not a universal fvmction of matter. 
It is possible to give this concession a turn in favor of spiritualism in- 
dependently of the question whether the residuum of organic " phenom- 
ena" might not be accounted for on the principle of efficient causes, or 
internal "forces." The materialist assumes and concedes the law of 
inertia, and he concedes this beyond the mere inability to produce or 
desist from motion and to the extent that matter cannot originate its 
own action. External as distinct from inte7'7ial efficient causation 
is the principle of initiation in the materialistic theory, when it is 
forced to abandon material causation as an explanation of even 
subjective reactions. In this position it is confronted by the ap- 
parently radical distinction between inorganic and organic actions. 
It accepts the doctrine that there is no self-motion in the inor- 
ganic world and no action in it without foreign incitement. In the 
organic world the difference is apparentlv radical. Organic beings 
are apparently capable of self-activitv wholly in opposition to the 
fundamental assumption of inertia supposed to characterize the na- 
tui'e of matter, as most convincingly exhibited in conscious and self- 
conscious beings. This capacity is usually called freedom or free will, 
denoting either spontaneity, mere self-origination, or velleity when it 
denotes alternative choice. Of course, the reply is that freedom is an 
illusion and that what we mistake for free volition is only a more com- 
plicated "mechanical" action. But there are several facts which 
prevent the materialist from confident dogmatism at this point. The 
first and most apparent is the fact that the spontaneous actions of or- 



SPIRITUALISM. 479 

ganic beings bear no external resemblance to the " mechanical " actions 
of inorganic matter where the transmission of energy is the type of 
activity, except in chemical "phenomena." There is no definite 
coordination or teleological adjustment in purely '* mechanical " 
actions, while the actions of organic beings show that adaptation which 
defies proof of anything like the simple transmission of energy. Thei'e 
is no fixed relation between the external stimuli and the intelligent co- 
ordinations and adjustments of living beings. The only safety of the 
determinist here is to say that we do not know how complex the 
"mechanical" activities of the organism maybe. But ignorance is 
no incident in favor of determinism, while the positive evidence, on 
any conception of nature, even the materialistic, is overwhelmingly in 
favor of freedom, as the purely " mechanical " doctrine of energy is not 
the universal one. The very strength of the materialist's theory lies in 
getting internal " forces " to account for "phenomena" which he is 
compelled to concede are not accounted for by the extei'nal, whether 
efficient or material, and he must be at a loss to limit and define these 
internal "forces" so as not to include the free initiation of conscious 
actions. It was precisely the qualitative difference between " cause 
and effect " that his theory of efficient causation, if worked out which 
it was not, was calculated to explain, so that he cannot return to the 
" mechanical " conception to escape freedom. These internal " forces " 
may include self-activity, so that he must either abandon them as an 
explanation of consciousness or accept the possibility of self-activity as 
either denying or limiting the doctrine of inertia. Just so long as ma- 
terialism leaves inertia unqualified and cannot explain everything by 
material causation, so long will it be confronted by the facts of 
cjualitative change not transmitted from without as overwhelmingly 
against " mechanical" determination, while the denial of self -activity 
is consistent with nothing else. The materialist cannot insist at the 
same time upon the identity and the difference between mental and 
physical "phenomena" without defining the relation between them 
more consistently than the doctrine of inertia and internal "forces" 
will permit In the attempt to reduce real or apparent self-activity to 
" mechanical" action which is not conceived as self-initiative. 

I am not here reproducing the difference between physical and 
mental events exhibited in the distinction between Inorganic and organic 
nature, as an evidence of spiritualism, but as a means of showing the 
relation of this difference to the doctrine of inertia. That is, I am not 
using their difference as events or effects, but their difference in rela- 
tion to Inertia which is the absence of initial causation supposed to 



4S0 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

characterize the nature of all matter. Incapacity for self-action is 
what inertia and " mechanical " causation mean, so that the materialist 
has to identify the actions of organic beings with those of the inorganic 
in order to maintain the universality of his principle. If the doctrine 
of inertia were revised or conceived so as to be consistent with self- 
activit}-, the argument just presented would lose its force. But it is 
precisely because materialism assumes the doctrine of inertia and the 
uncreated and indestructible nature of motion, that its argument for 
" mechanical" determinism has its cogency, and the reduction of voli- 
tion to this type of action would not permit of any real difference 
between the mental and physical in this respect. This conclusion of 
the materialist, however, is not consistent with the important distinc- 
tion between the actions of the inorganic and those of organic com- 
pounds of the animal type, the latter of which are indubitably capable 
of self-activity in a manner not definable or conceivable in terms of 
impact and transmission. The difference between conscious volition 
and " mechanical" action is so great that their identity can be assumed 
only by charging illusion against both immediate consciousness and 
reasoning, a policy which can only discredit the judgment that adopts 
it, as this premise must imph'that consciousness can no more be trusted 
to declare for their identity than it can be accepted in its deliverance 
for freedom. If freedom is an illusion, so must be all convictions as 
to determinism, especially when we recall the general principle of 
knowledge enunciated in this work, that ratiocinative processes are 
exposed to such a host of fallacies that the confidence of the determinist 
in his logical method is as amusing as it is captious. This is espe- 
cially true when we remark that determinism never boasts of direct evi- 
dence in its favor, but only of ratiocinative argument without any 
accompanying sense of humor in regard to its liabilities. To discredit 
the final court of appeal in such matters is to invoke a more thorough 
scepticism than is bargained for in the controversy, namely, that of the 
conditions which supply the premises of all proof and the process of 
reasoning itself. Besides the materialist cannot admit the difference 
between the mental and physical wdthout exposing the argument of 
determinism to annihilation, and to appeal to internal efficient causa- 
tion to explain that difference is to open the way to the acceptance of 
the testimony of consciousness to the fact of free action. Now the 
progress of complexity in the functions of both inorganic and organic 
compounds is accompanied usually b}' a corresponding complexity of 
constitutive elements, so that the substantive basis for new functions 
generally involves something adequate to the "phenomena" to be 



SPIRI TUAL ISM. 4S I 

explained. When we reach the organic world of spontaneous and free 
actions w^e have facts at least apparently at variance with inertia to the 
extent that the conception of " mechanical " causation will have either 
to submit to limitations or be universalized at the expense of its antith- 
esis to freedom. As long, however, as materialism antagonizes free- 
dom and tries to evade the manifest difference between simple 
" mechanical" actions and the conscious volitions of organic beings it 
is exposed to the argument based upon the w^idespread and radical dis- 
tinction mentioned, and it v\^ill be natural to believe in a soul to account 
for volition. If he can appropriate a doctrine of efficient cause and 
the idea of internal " forces " to suggest the possibility of free volitions 
as functions of organism, he may still redeem his position from defeat, 
but he will not relieve his theory from objections short of that policy. 
He must choose between the limitation of inertia with the admission of 
freedom and the maintenance of formulas whose cogency lies in their 
verbal associations and not in the fact which they are intended to 
cover. 

3. I have alluded to the localization of brain functions as a fact in 
favor of the materialistic theory. But there has recently arisen a view 
of this localization which creates a difficulty for materialism right 
where it was supposed to be strongest. The old theory of brain func- 
tions, in the form which localized specific activities, sensory and motor, 
at definite points in the brain conceived these functions as organic 
actions of these particular centers, vision in the occipital lobe, audition 
in the temporal lobe, and motor functions about the fissure of Rolando, 
etc. The old phrenological theory was abandoned in its psychological 
analysis and specific physiological centers, but its general conception 
of specific localities for specific functions was retained. But after this 
new theory had prevailed for a short period the histological discoveries 
involving a new conception of neural structure and centers, and the 
improvement of experiments in vivisection and the removal of various 
portions of the spinal cord and the cerebrum, with the retention intact 
or the recovery of formerly exercised functions, resulted In that con- 
ception of vicarious functions which proves that localized actions were 
"empirical" and not organic, that is, the result of habit, not of true 
functional genesis in that specific center. Recent experiments in the 
excision of important centers involving the restoration of normal func- 
tions in spite of the excision, experiments that have been numerous and 
widely extended over the nervous system, have led to the view that the 
various centers of the brain are merely channels through which enero-y 
is transmitted, not organs for \X\Q-ix genesis. This conception suo-o-ests 



4 82 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the view that the brain is a medium for the transmission of energy to 
the motor system and not the organ proper for mental functions whether 
intellectual or volitional. It of course still remains possible for 
materialism to claim that the brain functions as a whole in sensory 
and motor activities, and that, though the individual centers do not 
originate them, they may be the channels for the distribution of energy. 
This position has to be granted its evidential security until it can be 
shown with equal clearness that consciousness can exist wholly apart 
from a nervous system. But the discovery that the various centers are 
mere media is a suggestion that the whole brain may be the same, 
though there is no finally conclusive evidence to prove it. 

4. The next consideration negatively in favor of spiritualism is the 
impossibility of scientifically '•'• p7-oving-" materialism. Scientific proof 
of the absolutely assured sort is the verification of an hypothesis by 
the Method of Difference, or the isolation of the " phenomenon" and 
its cause. In the case of materialism which denies the survival of 
consciousness this method would involve the evidence that conscious- 
ness has actually disappeared with the dissolution of the organism. I 
need hardly allude to the impossibility of proving the negative in such 
a case, as that ought to be apparent to the merest tyro in philosophic 
thought, but the fact may require to be asserted as a challenge of that 
dogmatism which so confidently parades denial and contempt for the 
opposite possibility without accepting responsibility for the evi- 
dence demanded. In view of such dogmatism also it may be useful 
to examine some elementary problems in science. 

If materialism of that sort which maintains that consciousness is a 
function of a composite organism be true, the extinction of conscious- 
ness by death must be a fact and it remains for its advocates to prove 
the fact, to verify the logical consequences of their theory, if they in- 
tend to insist that belief In Its survival shall be evidently supported. 
We cannot say that the coincidence of consciousness with organism is 
absolute "proof" that It is only a function of that organism, as the 
method of difference must always be the final court of appeal when 
scepticism Is presented against less cogent evidence. I agree that the 
Method of Agreement is for the theory of materialism, and that if the 
method of difference or isolation cannot be applied to prove spirit- 
ualism, that the positive argument must remain for materialism. This 
means that all the evidence that we actually have, apart from resid- 
ual " phenomena " which science hesitates to accept as important in the 
problem, represents consciousness and its integrity as definitely asso- 
ciated with the physical organism and as never dissociated from it. 



SPIRITUALISM. 4S3 

This is to say that the method of agreement represents the known 
conditions and relations of consciousness while the method of differ- 
ence, for either proof or disproof, has not been satisfied. Expressed 
in untechnical language this means only that the evidence, such as it is, 
and that is strong, is of an inductive character and favors materialism, 
which, even if actually false, is the only rational one to hold on the 
basis of the scientific evidence at command. Introspective and analyt- 
ical results may suggest and support scepticism of dogmatic assurance 
on this evidence, but they do not supplant or displace the force of the 
evidential criterion employed by science in the determination of con- 
viction on all such questions. In the last analysis the fundamental 
standards of science have to be satisfied or the case abandoned. These 
standards involve the limitation of our knowledge at present, so far as 
accepted evidence goes, to the association of consciousness with the 
organism and total ignorance of its existence as dissociated with it, so 
that materialism has the balance of possibility or probability in its 
favor until something cogent on the other side can be produced. 

But if materialism is to be anything more than a working hypoth- 
esis, imposing the burden of proof upon spiritualism, it should be 
able to verify its contention by the method of isolation. It can multi- 
ply facts on the side of agreement as much as it pleases, but it only 
leaves the effectual proof of the hypothesis untouched. It should 
" prove" that consciousness is annihilated with the dissolution of the 
body and not merely that within our knowledge it is always associated 
with It. This association is freely admitted by the spiritualist and his 
demand is that its disappearance be proved as well as its known con- 
nections and modifications under physical causes. If the materialist 
cannot " prove" that consciousness disappears with the body his 
theory is only a working hypothesis and nothing more. I do not deny 
the correctness of it on the evidence we have. It may be the only 
rational position possible without traces of a dissociated consciousness. 
But until definite proof of this disappearance is presented the attitude 
of the materialist must be that of an agnostic, and not of the dogmatist. 
This, of course, was the conclusion of Kant established in his own way 
and without formulating his doctrine in terms of scientific method. 

A most important consideration in estimating the difiiculties and 
limitations of materialism is the very significant fact that we have no 
direct or immediate evidence of any consciousness in the universe ex- 
cept our own. All that we directly know' is certain physical "phe- 
nomena," organic or inorganic, and the existence of consciousness 
connected with objective realities is an inference from physical facts 



4S4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

which, in ourselves, we know directly are associated with conscious- 
ness. External consciousness is absolutely concealed from us except 
as we can infer it from its johysical effects. This is only to say that 
the subject can discover consciousness in the object only by the teleo- 
logical argument after abandoning the ontological, and we have seen 
that the materialist cannot abide by the ontological interpretation of the 
relation between the mental and physical without proving too much. 
He would prove the persistence of consciousness and convert his theory 
into spiritualism. As long as there is no transmission of influence 
from object to subject the character of the causal agencies in the object, 
if allied to consciousness at all, must be indirectly determined by a tel- 
eological argument, by the interpretation of physical movements as 
initiated or not initiated by intelligence. This means that our evi- 
dence for the existence of consciousness in others is limited to physical 
movements of a certain definitely coordinated kind, in the last analysis 
analogous to our own. But it is important to remark that, if these 
movements are absent, this absence is not proof of the discontinuance 
of an objective person's consciousness. All that is proved by this 
defect of evidence is that consciousness has ceased to produce effects 
in the organism and the physical world, not that the consciousness has 
ceased to exist. This is finely illustrated and proved by those cases of 
paralysis which recover sufhciently to attest the continuance of con- 
sciousness during the entire absence of the physical evidence for its 
existence. As consciousness in others thus depends absolutely upon 
the possibility of producing a physical effect in or through the organism 
with which it is associated as evidence of its existence, the interruption 
of that effect by death or sleep is no proof of its decease or discon- 
tinuance. It may still subsist and yet be unable to give any objective 
evidence of this fact. Consequently the materialist is absolutelv cut 
off from the " proof" of his theory by the apparent disappearance of 
objective consciousness. All that he can claim is that the evidence of 
its continuance is wanting. But he cannot positively denv its persist- 
ence in the case of others than himself. He can onlv suspend his 
judgment and say that he does not know. 

But if the disappearance of consciousness in others cannot be proved, 
how does it fare with the subject's own consciousness? It will be clear 
that he is equally helpless here. For no man can attest even to him- 
self the decease or discontinuance of his own consciousness. To be 
aware of his own annihilation is a contradiction. All that a man can 
be aware of is either the facts of consciousness that attest his own ex- 
istence or those that attest the existence of external objects phvsical or 



SPIRITUALISM. 4S5 

mental. He cannot directly or indirectly prove his own annihilation. 
We are never even directly aware of the suspense of consciousness by 
sleep or accident in our bodily life. We can only infer from circum- 
stances that some unusual change has occurred and the testimony of 
others may enable vis to form a conception of sleep and syncope, and 
what we observe objectively in their experience may afford a further 
clue to what is meant by the lapse of consciousness in ourselves, which 
may actually occur without any sense of temporal loss. It must be 
the same in the case of death, if we are actually annihilated. There 
could thus be no evidence to either ourselves or others of our existence 
in this case ; not to ourselves because we should be extinct, and not to 
others because we could not produce the necessary evidence. It will 
thus appear that the only theory which can have any hope or possibility 
of proof is the spiritualistic, as actual sru'vival would supply the sub- 
jective attestation and circumstances 7night arise in which it could 
objectively attest personal identity. But the materialist cannot pro- 
duce either subjective or objective evidence of annihilation. He is 
hopelessly excluded from the proof of his theory. 

The proof that consciousness had a subject other than the brain or 
organism would clearly establish the possibility of a surviving con- 
sciousness beyond a doubt, but it would not differ practically from ma- 
terialism unless it did carry this implication with it. This possi- 
bility, as we have seen, is involved in the admissions of ancient mate- 
rialism regarding what may be called a " spiritual body." But this 
granted, it would still remain to be proved that the consciousness 
which we know in our bodily existence had any continuity or revival 
after the dissolution of the organism, and without this revival there 
would be no practical interest in either adopting or refuting material- 
ism, while there would be no final disproof of it until the survival of per- 
sonal and individual consciousness had been proved or rendered proba- 
ble. All that the proof of the existence of a soul or subject other than 
the brain would establish would be the condition on which \\-\q possi- 
bility of a surviving consciousness might rest, not the fact of it. The 
suspense of consciousness, as in sleep, might be perpetual, or the altera- 
tion of personality, as in accident, disease or secondary consciousness, 
might supplant the normal " self" and all but the substantive or sub- 
ject identity lost. In this way the soul might change its functional 
activity so much, if it ever resumed any at all, that nothing would be 
gained for our personal consciousness and its ideals. The Platonic 
doctrine might be realized. The consciousness which actually inter- 
ests us might still be the resultant of the composition of the soul with 



4S6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the organism, while the soul might function in some other manner after 
the separation without any mnemonic connection between the incarnate 
and the discarnate condition. The real question that concerns the man 
who wishes the problem solved is whether our personally known con- 
sciousness in any way survives and exhibits that mnemonic connection 
between the present and future condition of the soul which may be 
called personal identity. 

That the case rests upon showing the fact of personal survival or 
the continuity of personal consciousness ought to be apparent from the 
difference between the doctrines of the indestructibility of matter and 
the conservation of energy, though they are closely related to each 
other, and their relation to the materialistic theory. 

The indestructibility of matter depends for its proof upon the reten- 
tion of some identity in all its changes. Some property must remain 
the same in the resolution of a compound into its elements in order to 
suppose that the resultant is identical with the antecedent material sub- 
stance. The property on which physicists rely on determining this 
doctrine is weight. Matter retains its weight in all its metamorphic 
changes and so we infer that it is indestructible. There may be other 
properties persistent in this way, but it is not necessary to take anv ac- 
count of them. That of weight is sufficient to prove the persistence 
of matter. One element of identity suffices to make out the case and 
without it we should have no reason to believe in the indestructibility 
of matter. The view that was so long held would be quite a rational 
one, namely, that matter was a phenomenal and transient substance, 
and the w^ay would thus be opened for a theory of its creation. 

If then we could show with the proof of the indestructibility of mat- 
ter and that of all substantive reality, that consciousness was the at- 
tribute either of some elementary matter or of some reality, simple or 
complex, other than matter, we should have probably an invulnerable 
argument for its personal survival. Its ad /zominem importance could 
not be denied. But the difficulty of showing that an independent sub- 
ject of any kind is necessary to account for the fact of consciousness 
makes it imperative to prove the fact of conscious survival as a con- 
dition of saying anything about its subject. 

But this necessity is still more apparent from the doctrine of the 
conservation of energ}- . If we were assured of a perfect qualitative 
identity and convertibility between antecedent and consequent either in 
material phenomena or in mental and physical phenomena, as already 
shown, we might hope to have an effective argument for the continu- 
ance of personal consciousness under any supposition of its ground. 



SPIRITUALISM. 4S7 

It would not affect the case if its ground were material or immaterial, 
simple or complex, or whether reincarnation or individual existence 
were supposed. But the fact that the qualitative interpretation of the 
conservation of energy is either doubtful or all but abandoned indicates 
that we have no positive assurance that the requisite identity exists 
between the different members of the phenomenal series. All that 
seems to be established is that certain definite uniformities are manifest 
in the causal interactions of realities. Some remain satisfied with an 
affirmation of the quantitative identity of the members, but fail to 
realize that even this modification of the doctrine must carry with it 
some assumption of qualitative identity in order to justify the theory 
of quantitative identity in its true conception. Hence the utmost that 
seems assured is the fact of uniformity of phenomenal relation without 
supposing that identity in the terms has been established, though each 
term may retain its quantitative or qualitative identity in time and 
space. Such a qualification of the doctrine implies the possibility that 
qualitative manifestations may arise and disappear, as they certainly do 
in the composition and dissolution of organisms, and it remains to 
show what qualities remain intact in the phenomenal series as weight 
remains in substantive transformations. In this situation we shall 
have to prove the fact of personal continuity in order to eliminate or 
qualify the sceptical interpretation of the conservation of energy. 
When the origin and disappearance of certain qualitative phenomena 
are certain in spite of the doctrine of conservation, it must be a ques- 
tion of fact to decide whether any particular quality or activity is con- 
sistently persistent with the general application of conservation which 
is in fact an abstraction. 

5. But if materialism cannot prove itself by an application of the 
method of difference, does the situation fare any better for spiritualism? 
All that can be said philosophically in answer to this question is that 
the negative evidence afforded in the difficvdties of the materialistic 
hypothesis do not suffice for any proof of the spiritualistic theory. But 
the demonstration of the inability of materialism to establish its own 
claims indicates just what the problem is and suggests what has to be 
done if the rival doctrine is to be maintained. I grant that there is 
no scientific disproof of materialism possible except by the isolation of 
individual consciousness and the evidence of its personal identity in 
survival of death. Whether this be either possible or a fact it is not my 
purpose to assert. Bui I may indicate the conditions under which such 
proof is conceivable. 

Since we have no direct evidence of the existence of external con- 



4^8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sciousness and no evidence direct or indirect of its extinction, and since 
we cannot attest our own decease either to ourselves or others, the only 
hope of " proving" any survival at all must be through the inductive 
interpretation by the living of effects produced in the phvsical world 
by discarnate spirits, if they exist, and if such effects be possible. If 
they are not possible, assuming the possibility of survival, no living 
person can obtain evidence of survival, and deceased persons, if they 
actually survived, could only directly attest to themselves their own 
survival. Their only hope of proving their continuance after death to 
the living would be some effect in the physical universe that was suf- 
ficient to establish personal identty. The evidence of their survival 
must be just these physical effects, however determined. 

The difficulty of effecting such a result is c^uite apparent. What 
we know of consciousness and its action on matter is connected with 
organic bodies and all evidence is lacking for the direct action of con- 
sciousness on inorganic matter. ITnless this action is possible there is 
no hope that a discarnate consciousness, if it existed, should reveal 
itself through inorganic physical effects. Even if it could produce 
effects on dead matter they would have no evidential value unless they 
were more than simple mechanical movement and were teleological 
coordinations indicating intelligence. But mere intelligence would not 
suffice. It must be evidence of a particular intelligence representing 
the identity of a given deceased person, and there is no definite stan- 
dard to determine how much evidence may be required under such 
circumstances. Even if mechanical effects through inorganic matter 
were possible for a discarnate soul the task of proving its identity with 
the past would be extremely difficult in the face of what we know about 
the relation of consciousness to matter, or even the relation of mind to 
mind. The more natural direction for effort and effect ^vould be 
through organic matter, as most nearly related to impressions from con- 
sciousness, and if the brain be a mere channel for the transmission of 
energy to the motor system it would seem possible to hope for such a 
mediation. But here the discarnate soul would be confronted with the 
fact that the organism is already in possession of another and living 
soul, and this agent would either have to be dispossessed or the effect 
in the physical world would have to be produced through its inter- 
mediation. Whether such a thing is either possible or a fact, it is not 
yet time to assert with confidence. But there are some facts which 
point toward its possibility. There is the fact of subliminal hyperaes- 
thesia which represents the accessibility of the subject to impressions 
far more delicate and refined than those in our normal sensibilitv and 



SPIRITUALISM. 489 

" perception." This is not the place to quote evidences of this fact, 
but any work that shows a study of psychopathology will exhibit them 
in abundance. This hyperaesthesia may extend even to the capacity 
for receiving supernormal information not amenable to the normal 
action of sense. This reception of hyperasthesic impression we find 
associated with what is called subliminal mental action, a process 
apparently duplicating all that we know of consciousness, except the 
normal mnemonic recognition. Now it is admitted that, when the con- 
trol of the motor system by the normal consciousness is relaxed, the 
subliminal mental functions may assume sovereignty and give expres- 
sion to ideas below the threshold of the normal " perception " or not 
observable by the normal consciousness. Sometimes the normal state 
may be aware of the motor action and its result after it is effected, but 
has no knowledge of the influence effecting the result. That is, it may 
be aware of what is going on but not aware of any conscious causation 
in the case. Sometimes it is not aware of even this much and cannot 
contemplate the results with any other feeling than that with which it 
observes the movements of foreign objects. Sometimes the normal 
consciousness may be totally suspended and automatic or subliminal 
results are produced which, but for the testimony of others, would 
never be connected with the same organic mechanism. There are thus 
various types of subliminal action supplanting the normal control of 
the organism. If now any favorable rapport of this subliminal with a 
transcendental consciousness should be established by means of its 
hypergesthesic condition, especially if anything like telepathic percip- 
ience is possible, and control of the motor system should remain 
intact, a discarnate soul might effect results in the sensible world lead- 
ing to its identification, though this had to be produced by subliminal 
intermediation. In any case the facts would have to represent some- 
thing transcending the mnemonic experience of the subject through 
which they were communicated. On the other hand, both the sub- 
liminal and the normal mental control of the motor S}'stem might be 
dispossessed and only the automatic conditions of the organism left 
intact, if the vital functions are fortunate enough not to be suspended 
or deranged by the process of dispossession, as they are by the dispos- 
session of death. The capacitv and habits of this automatic system for 
responding to mental action, whether normal or subliminal, shows a 
delicate set of conditions and with the dispossession of both normal and 
subliminal control over them, its hyperesthesia or supernormal con- 
dition might expose it to the influence of an outside mind. If such a 
situation should arise, and if an individual consciousness did have the 



490 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

fortune to survive death, rapport with that automatic condition might 
enable a discarnate consciousness to impress its influence upon it suffi- 
ciently to prove identity or continuance after death. This would 
depend wholly upon the character of the effects produced in the sen- 
sible world. They must be of that nature which will prove personal 
identity and which transcend explanation by the normal processes of 
experience, and they must represent a mnemonic connection with an 
incarnate past, as memory is the condition of personal identity in all 
conditions, that is, such personal identity as can have any moral value 
for consciousness. In any case, whether through subliminal inter- 
mediation or the dispossession of both subliminal and normal control 
of the motor system, the results would be affected by the limitations of 
the medium through which they were produced and the abnormal 
conditions, physiological or psychological, under which they were 
realized. 

The condition which we have here conceived as necessary for a 
surviving consciousness to produce effects in the sensible physical 
world indicate an abnormal situation. That is to say we have to as- 
sume abnormal mental and physical conditions as a requisite for any 
other influence in the physical world than that which is exercised by 
the normal and subliminal action of the subject. There will be no 
question about the impossibility of obtaining these effects in an 
evidential form unless the production of them should exclude explana- 
tion by normal and subliminal action, and if they are conceived as pos- 
sible at all, there is no alternative to the admission that such conditions 
must be abnormal with all the difficulties and limitations involved. 
The disintegration of the normal personality, and the disorganization 
of the regular channels of motor impulses and actions and the liability 
to all sorts of abnormal interjections of ^physiological and psychological 
automatisms, and even hallucinations, would be the most natural expec- 
tation in such cases, so that one might even suppose a priori that 
there would be little chance of adequate evidence ever coming through 
from a supersensible existence to indicate the survival of any rational 
consciousness in a way to make its integrity respectable. This was 
apparent to Kant who had been greatly impressed by the apparently 
supernormal " phenomena" of Swedenborg, but saw at the same time 
that many of his experiences were subjective productions of his own 
mind and to be classed accordingly, though the conception of sec- 
ondary personality was not then known and has only shown Its signifi- 
cance in the limitations of spiritualistic theory in recent times. The 
influence of Leibnitz on Kant's conception of all subjective action 



SPIRITUALISM. 49 1 

would lead him to hold that whatever came into the mind from 
without would most naturally undergo a modification determined by 
the nature of this subject and its laws of action and reaction, and he 
would even not admit the existence of any external reality at all unless 
some compulsory data of consciousness made it insane to accept any 
other alternative. The scientific and philosophic assumption remains 
the same to-day reinforced by many thousands of facts which limit the 
overconfident manners in our description of the external world even of 
the sensible type, to say nothing of our limitations in regard to the 
supersensible, though the consciousness that sensation does not exhaust 
the meaning of even the sensible world might teach us humility when 
tempted by dogmatic tendencies in regard to the supersensible and 
what it might effect through abnormal conditions. But whatever the 
influences that determined Kant's conception, he expressly indicated 
in a general way the conditions of any definite relation with a super- 
sensible world of "spirit." Caird, in calling attention to the fact, 
enlarges upon it more explicitly. Speaking of the conditions which 
obtain in the commerce and reciprocity of ideas between living beings 
constituting a moral and " spiritual" community in actual life where 
physical conditions of a common character affect the possibility of this 
communion, Caird represents Kant's view in the following terms : 

" Supposing this view to be true" (the actual influence of the spir- 
itual world), " it would follow that, even now in the present world, the 
spiritual subject must take the place among the spiritual substances of 
the universe which is appropriate for it according to moral laws ; and 
it must take that place with the same necessity with which material 
bodies determine their respective places according to the laws of 
motion. And if in a future state the community between the soul and 
the material world should be broken off, the moral laws that already 
determine its relations in this world would continue to operate without 
a break. The only difficulty that remains unexplained is, how we are 
to reconcile the existence of such a spiritual community with the fact that 
we are so seldom conscious of it. For the spiritual world is present to 
man, if at all, only in occasional glimpses, which, besides, have often 
a somewhat uncertain and even irrational character. This, however, 
is already explained by what has been said of the nature of the con- 
sciousness of man as contrasted with that of purely spiritual beings. 
For what we experience as spirits will not naturally enter into that 
consciousness which we have of ourselves as men ; or if it does so enter 
at all, it will only be under abnormal conditions, and even then the inti- 
mations from the spirit world will necessarily take the form of the con- 



492 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sciousness into which they intrude. Spiritual realities will be pictured 
as objects and events in the natural world, and all the imperfections of 
the medium will affect the vision. For men in general such percep- 
tions will have something of the character of disease ; and if there are 
a few exceptional individuals wdio are so constituted as to be continu- 
ously conscious of spiritual influences, their minds w^ill be so much 
drawn out of proper balance as to the things of this world by the con- 
fusing presence of another, that they wall often be regarded by other 
men as insane. In this way it only needs a little ingenuity to explain 
all the facts of ghost-seeing in accordance wath our primary assump- 
tions as to the relations of the two worlds. ' For metaphysical hypoth- 
eses have wonderful pliancy ; and it would show great want of inge- 
nuity not to be able to adapt this hypothesis to every stor}- of 
supernatural visitations, and that without taking any trouble to inves- 
tigate its truth, which in many cases it would be impossible, and in yet 
more would be discourteous to attempt.'" 

In the Anticabala Kant points to an alternative explanation of phe- 
nomena pretending to be effects of a transcendental mind in the phys- 
ical world and between the two alternative possibilities does not decide 
as to the facts. Dreams and hallucinations, he thinks, ex2Dlain so much 
of the pretentious claims for " spiritualistic" communion that there is 
no evidence for any other more reliable facts, and he w^ould have added 
secondary personality to the list of difficulties had he known it as we 
do. In later chapters of his " Dreams of a Ghost-seer" he speaks re- 
spectfully of the possibility of such an interaction between the physical 
and spiritual worlds, though dubious of its evidence and saving his 
reputation for sanity by appropriating some of the materialist's useful 
ridicule of the case. But he nevertheless frankly admits that materi- 
alism cannot be dogmatic on the matter and points to phenomena and 
suppositions based thereon which must be reckoned with before any 
form of "spiritualism" can prove itself, and conditions all evidential 
matter indicating its truth upon abnormal mental conditions. He 
simply indicates that philosophicallv one side of the question is as 
possible as the other. Such a thing as collecting data or evidence to 
prove one or the other of the alternatives did not occur to him, or if it 
did he was not disposed to vmdertake the task. He was content to 
deal with the problem in a speculative and not a scientific manner, 
and this was probably all that was either possible or called for at his 
time. The extent to which his general philosophical point of view 
■with that of Leibnitz has been accepted in regard to the form which 
all " knowledge" must take shows clearlv enough that the conditions 



SPIRITUALISM. 493 

must be very exceptional if any influence from a transcendental world 
could be transmissible, and that, representing either a normal or an 
abnormal situation, the influence must undergo the modifications which 
the nature of the subject inevitably 2Droduces. The proof of personal 
identity in such circumstances will be difficult and must depend upon 
that fortunate set of circumstances which will enable the memory of 
the past to retain its integrity in the transmission sufficiently to be 
recognized. 

The difficulties of the problem will be better appreciated if we will 
examine the limitations of communication between living beings right 
here in the physical Avorld. We usually assume that this is quite easy. 
It is such a common matter of social life that we forget the real con- 
ditions and limitations of all communication whatsoever between mind 
and mind. The ancient Greeks, after scepticism had shown the rela- 
tivity of " knowledge," raised the question whether virtue and " knowl- 
edge " could be taught, a question apparently absurd to most men, but 
perfectly rational to all who reflect for a moment upon human experi- 
ence. We take it in common life as an axiom that " knowledge " can 
be taught and that ideas can be communicated with ease from mind to 
mind. But there is no more mistaken doctrine. The fact is that 
nothing can be taught. Everything has to be learned. We cannot 
communicate ideas at all. We can only make signs or produce sounds, 
and in the process of experience we have managed to agree upon the 
symbols of what is in our minds and the use of signs effects a con- 
dition in the physical world that is interpreted by the mind to whom 
we are supposed to communicate ideas. We have only to meet a sav- 
age or foreigner to see our helplessness in the matter of communicat- 
ing ideas, unless we can use signs, and even ^vhen we have agreed 
upon our symbols in general, a common experience and personal in- 
sight are the indispensable qualifications to intellectual commerce. 
This is perfectly clear w^hen we reflect for a moment, but we forget it 
when passing judgment upon the problem of communication between 
a spiritual and a material world. When the difficulties are so great in 
the physical world, requiring long experience to both qualify us for 
understanding signs when used and to control the motor organism in 
the expression of our ov\^n thoughts, we must not wonder at the limi- 
tations under which discarnate consciousness would have to labor in 
the production of effects in the physical world adequate to the estab- 
lishment of its identity. 

In this discussion of the conditions for "proving" spiritualism, I 
am not concerned with the question whether the theory is provable in 



494 1^^^^ PROBLEMS OF I'HILOSOPHY. 

fact or not. I have only been showing that, in the contest between 
materialism and spiritualism, the former stands no chance whatever 
of "proof" and that only the latter can offer a situation or possible 
conditions for it in known facts, if the soul should actually survive and 
retain consciousness, a possibility that cannot be denied by the ma- 
terialist with any show of dogmatism because the only evidence for his 
theory is in the method of agreement which never " proves" a case. 
It can only decide the direction of rational belief until the method of 
difference has decided wdiether one term of the coexistent facts is or is 
not absolutely dependent upon the other for its existence. Whether 
spiritualism can actually " prove " itself scientifically I am not compe- 
tent to decide, but I think the " phenomena " of abnormal psychology 
show that it is possible, if consciousness actually survives death, and 
we should only have to consider the evidence that may be put in for 
the alleged fact of this persistence, accepting it if satisfactory' and re- 
jecting it if it is not. There is certainly a larger and better qualified 
body of alleged facts for consideration in this direction than any that 
Kant was called upon to estimate, and if Kant found it as difficult to 
doubt as to believe the conclusion there is a justifiable malice in re- 
minding his disciples of his fairness. It is certainly strange in this 
matter, however, that the idealist, ^\\\o pretends to sneer so contemptu- 
ously at materialism and all its children, should outdo the materialists 
in his scepticism of such a possibility as survival and even reiterate 
w^ith more than dogmatic fervor all the facts of the materialistic theory 
without permitting himself to be called by the right name. He has 
simply forgotten the cosmopolitan and philosophic temper of his mas- 
ter, Kant, who saw the possibility but had not sufficient evidence at 
his command to decide the question, while he recognized it as a legiti- 
mate problem though insoluble at his time. 

However this may be I am discussing the philosophic, not the 
scientific side of the question. The scientific consideration of the 
problem requires us to ascertain and analyze alleged facts purporting 
to " prove " the truth of survival rather than its possibility and consis- 
tency with other accepted facts assumed to antagonize it. It is not my 
purpose to vmdertake this task but only to estimate the relative strength 
of the two theories in terms of undisputed facts and the assumptions 
that are made in all attempts at explanation. 

6. It may be important in this connection to examine briefly Kant's 
position on the subject of the soul as discussed in the Kritik^ and 
from the result of this examination we may find additional negative 
evidence for the spiritualistic theory. I do so, however, for no other 



SPIRIT UALISM. 495 

reason than the fact that idealists generally have supposed that Kant's 
argument has put an end to the discussion of the subject in the philo- 
sophic field. Whether this is true or not, it is a fact that Kantian 
idealists have usually abandoned the discussion and virtually grant that 
there is nothing to be said on the affirmative of it, and philosophers 
generally acquiesce in the negative verdict. It is interesting to remark, 
however, that in doing so they have actually assumed the validity of a 
point of view for discussing the subject which Kant explicitly denied 
and repudiated, while they maintain silence on the argument which he 
regarded as valid ! What Kant regarded as futile was the argument 
from what he called " rational psychology." When sifted down to its 
proper import this was the application of formal logic to conceptions 
introspectively determined. This criticism is unquestionably true and 
effective. His contention was, in his own phraseology, that conscious- 
ness could not immediately determine the simplicity of the ego, and as 
the fact of this simplicity was presumably necessary to the proof of im- 
mortality, there could be no evidence in consciousness introspectively 
determined for this survival. The force of this argument lies in the 
fact that the assumed simplicity of consciousness as a function was not 
evidence of the simplicity of the subject. The subject might be com- 
plex or composite and the function simple, as the resultant in the com- 
position of forces. This is conclusive enough, on the assumptions and 
conceptions generally prevalent in the inetaphysical physics of that 
time, and I think is true on any philosophic assumption but one, 
namely, the Herbartian notion of the "real" and that view of the 
atom which holds that it can have but one simple property, and, vice 
versa ^ that the presence of a simple quality is evidence of a simple 
subject. This view was not prevalent at Kant's time and he can 
hardly be held responsible for not considering and refuting it. But I 
think that he either misconceived or misrepresented the dogmatists in 
the matter. Their tendency was to argue precisely as if they assumed 
the convertibility evidentially of the simple in the "phenomenon" 
with the simple in the subject. This would mean that the real point 
of difference with the contention of Kant turned precisely on the po- 
sition that simplicity of consciousness did imply simplicity of subject, 
a conception that grew explicitly into the doctrine of Herbart and rep- 
resents the implicit view of the " rationalists." Kant's argument was 
thus only a refutation based upon the force of assumptions which did 
not represent the only contention made by the " rationalists," though 
they had not explicitly developed as clearly as they might have done 
the real import of their position. What the "rationalists" aimed to 



49^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

do was to present an ad Jiomlnem possil^ility for the existence of the 
soul as something other than the organism, and they assumed what the 
materiaHsts had to admit on their own philosophy, namely, that a 
simple individual atom survived all its combinations. Now if the soul 
could be shown to be an indivisible simple substance it too must be 
imperishable and survive its tenancy of the body. So much was in- 
evitable on the materialist's premises, though the " rationalist" with 
his theistic position was not obliged to commit his fortunes to the in- 
destructibility of the atom. He might make consciousness and its sub- 
ject what he pleased. But in order to supply a positive " empirical " 
content for the argument in behalf of the simplicitv of the soul he 
went on to use the assumed simplicity of consciousness as evidence of 
it, the conclusion being true on the assumption that all material " phe- 
nomena" and functions, being resultants of composition, must be com- 
plex and transient, and that there is satisfactory evidence for the sim- 
plicity of consciousness. That is to say, on the assumption that only 
simj)le subjects can have simple functions and, vice versa ^ only simple 
functions can be evidence of a simple subject, the appeal to conscious- 
ness and its simplicity as a fact would be conclusive, provided that we 
can trust the deliverance of consciousness on the matter of its sim- 
plicity. But Kant says nothing about this possible scepticism of the 
mind's capacity to introspect the simplicity of its function, perhaps be- 
cause it was not necessary to his argument, though it is quite as pos- 
sible to question this capacity of consciousness to determine its sim- 
plicity as it may be to vitiate the inference from that simplicity, once 
granted, to the simplicity of the subject. 

That Kant probably misunderstood the real position and contention 
of the " rationalists" is apparent from his treatment of ^Mendelssohn's 
doctrine, or rather argument, which is accepted as the representative 
of the "rational psychology." In his reply to Mendelssohn, Kant's 
position is so manifestly absurd as to raise the serious question whether 
he ever understood the problem at all and whether he has not so mis- 
represented the whole conception of it as both to cause all the con- 
fusion in philosophy since his time and to divert the human mind from 
the conception of what it is no^v and was before his time. The con- 
ception of the " soul " as an " intensive quantity " (intensive Grosse) 
that might ^;-fl:a'z^a//y vanish (verschwinden) as a replv to Mendelssohn 
is so absolutely absurd, as an implied representation of the case, that 
we wonder that Kant ever got within gunshot of a philosophic prob- 
lem. " Intensive quantity" applies to " phenomena" and not to sub- 
stance in its elementary conception. The term "soul" ^vas a name 



SPIRITUALISM. 497 

for an indivisible substance and not for a " phenomenon " of any kind. 
It was simply begging the question to suppose the possibility that the 
"soul "should be an "intensive quantity" and simply betrayed en- 
tire ignorance of what the fundamental conceptions of previous phi- 
losophy had been. I am not saying or implying in this argument 
that the soul cannot be an " intensive quantity" as well as its " phe- 
nomena." That may very well be as a fact, so far as the contention 
here made is concerned, though I think it absurd and untrue, but it is 
no refutation of the assumption of its simplicity to assume that con- 
sciousness may be an " intensive quantity." Mendelssohn's simple 
substance was indestrvictible because it was indivisible., and indivisible 
things could not vanish. In fact indivisibility, indestructibility, and 
simplicity were convertible terms, and no simple substance could 
gradually disappear, if the indestructibility of the atom and the con- 
servation of energy were to be accepted as either proved beyond 
question or as a priori truths. I am not saying that there are any 
such substances. For all that I know or care, even atoms may be 
destructible or gradually vanish. But it was the definition of a simple 
indivisible substance that it should not be destructible, so that if the 
soul were once admitted to comply with those terms the conception 
of gradual disappearance \vould no more apply than that of abrupt 
annihilation. Gradual disappearance can apply to the divisible, to 
complex substance, but to simple substance never. Mendelssohn is 
invulnerable on this point. Whether the soul exists and is simple 
are different questions which may be disputed, but that it persists, if 
it exists and is simple, cannot be disputed on materialistic assumptions. 
That Kant shows his misconception of the case is evident in his state- 
ment about the intensive nature of consciousness which may gradually 
vanish. He shows two fatal errors here. The first is the virtual 
identification of the " soul " and consciousness, which is absurd, and 
inexcusable even on his own philosophy. " Soul" is the subject and 
consciousness is the name for a function, and the question was not 
primarily whether consciousness would vanish, but whether the 
"soul" vanished. It was clear in the "phenomenon" of sleep 
that consciousness did vanish, but that it was revivable, and the ques- 
tion was whether anything survived death that made consciousness re- 
vivable, not whether it vanished in such a change. The second error 
was that Mendelssohn and the " rationalists" were not talking about 
consciousness, but the subject of it. They might well admit and did 
admit that consciousness vanished in sleep, while the subject did not, 
and they might admit that consciousness permanently vanished at death 
32 



49S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

while the " soul " survived. There might be no personal interest in 
such a survival, any more than in Plato's immortality, but that is not 
the question. The primary point is whether the subject survives as 
the condition of any reoccurrence of consciousness, and Mendelssolin 
could have an a priori possibility of that reoccurrence after death, if he 
could be assured that the subject was not dissolved by it. But whether 
he could prove either this survival or the simplicity of the subject or 
not, the assumption of a simple indivisible and therefore invanishable 
subject, on the simplicity of consciousness, whether it be an " intensive 
quantity" or not, was consistent and rational. Invanishability, being 
convertible with indivisibility in the philosophic parlance of the time, 
guaranteed survival, if the doctrine of the persistence of simple sub- 
stance were true, and so would be a refutation of the allegation that 
consciousness was a function of the organism, provided that you could 
show that consciousness was a simple function and implied a simple 
subject. What the evidence of this simplicity is was another question. 
But the simplicity once granted there was no escape from his conclusion. 
Moreover, in supposing that, because consciousness might gradually 
vanish, the "soul" might gradually vanish also, Kant practically 
admitted that the simplicity of consciousness, which he actuallv 
accepted, implied the simplicity of its subject. He here applied 
the principle of identity in his argument and ought to have seen that 
the same principle held true in the assumption of the simpiicitv of con- 
sciousness as he supposed it in the case of its " intensive quantity." 
That is to say, if the "intensive quantity" of consciousness would 
prove that the subject also was an " intensive quantity," the simpiicitv of 
consciousness would prove the simplicity of the subject, and Kant ad- 
mitted that consciousness was simple. The contraverse of this will also 
be true. And again if the simplicity of consciousness is compatible with 
the complexity of its subject, as Kant maintains, the invanishable nature 
of the " soul " is quite compatible with the vanis liable character of con- 
sciousness, as w^e can prove this by the "empirical phenomena" of 
sleep without any reference to the nature of the subject, whether 
material or spiritual, simple or complex. Here the subject persists 
after consciousness vanishes. But there is the possibility of its recur- 
rence, which would not occur if the subject dissolved, and hence the 
problem is first to ascertain the philosophic conception which will 
offer the materialist an ad /iomt?ze?n alternative to his conclusion. 
This is supplied in the conception of the soul as simple. The evi- 
dence of this simplicity as a fact may be imperfect or worthless, as it 
is certainly not supplied by the introspective testimony of consciousness. 



SPIRITUALISM. 499 

But it is no attack upon the position of Mendelssohn to resort to the 
" intensive quantity " of consciousness, as this is simply running away 
from the issue. 

A further point in Kant's argument is in contradiction with his doc- 
trine in physics which assumed the persistence of substance, which he 
affirms in the Kritik. He actually defined "substance" as the per- 
manent in change. Now if the " soul " can possibly vanish gradually 
after assuming that it is a substance, it is possible for any other sub- 
stance to vanish in the same way. He could apply his idea of elan- 
guescence to the " soul" only on the assumption that it was not a 
" substance," but a "• phenomenon," and thus by begging the question 
with his opponents who held that the subject was a spiritual substance 
and consciousness its function. Kant was perfectly familiar with the 
doctrine that the "soul" was a substance and ought to have known 
that this idea was so prevalent in his time (actually recognized in the 
Kritik^ that it was an evasion of the issue to thus talk about 
elanguescence. 

But after arguing against Mendelssohn's spiritualism, Kant turns 
around to disprove the materialistic theory by the following argument. 
He asserts that " nothing real in space is simple," and then assumes 
that consciousness is simple, and while looking at matter as complex 
he denies the possibility of explaining consciousness by this matter on 
the ground that it is simple and cannot have a complex subject, after 
having said that the simplicity of consciousness was compatible with a 
complex subject as an argument against the " rationalistic psychology " ! 
Or to put his argument in another way, which he does. All the real 
in space is complex, and constitutes " matter." Points which are the 
only simple data in space are no part of it. Consequently materialism 
cannot explain consciousness. One wonders what conception of logic 
Kant had to see any rational " therefore " in this connection, especially 
that he had just said that the intuited simplicity of consciousness did 
not imply simplicity of subject. Of course it might not imply its com- 
plexity, but his position did imply the consistency of the fact with 
either simplicity or complexity. Consequently he could not legiti- 
mately affirm the "impossibility of explaining" consciousness by 
materialism ; for his very argument previously implied that we could. 
Of course, what Kant had in mind was a lot of unwarranted assmnp- 
tions borrowed from the philosophy of Leibnitz, some of which he 
apparently accepts and some of which he apparently rejects. Thus in 
making " matter" complex and the real in space he abandons the con- 
ception of Leibnitz who accepted a supersensible " matter " and did 



500 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

not limit his conception of it to sense. Then in supposing conscious- 
ness to be spaceless because it was simple he made a perfectly absurd 
and unwarranted assumption for which there is no ground but his 
imagination. But granted that it was well supported, the contention 
that we could not intuit the simplicity of the subject while we could 
that of consciousness left this simplicity of consciousness compatible 
with the complexity of the subject, and materialism stands sustained 
instead of refuted. To repeat a point, the whole trouble with Kant 
lay in his playing fast and loose with conceptions that were partly 
Leibnitzian and partly non-Leibnitzian. The force of his remark 
about the " real in space" as complex comes from the assumption of 
Leibnitz that the simple " real " is spaceless or a point, and by natural 
inference that the "phenomenal" is extended and divisible, the 
unextended being indivisible. Now after having thus made conscious- 
ness spaceless how can he speak of it as gradually vanishing? More- 
over, when he talks of " points" as not constituting space, while this 
is unquestionably true, he goes on to argue for the impossibility of con- 
sciousness being a function of the extended because it is unextended, 
assuming that the complex cannot have a simple function after having 
previously argued that it was possible ! Leibnitz's very conception of 
"matter" was that of the unextended, space enveloping it but not 
being a property of it. Hence Kant simply begs the question as to the 
nature of "matter" by dogmatically making it complex when the 
whole history of materialism shows that it was regarded as simple in 
its ultimate nature. But even this change of meaning for " matter" 
to the spatially and sensibly real does not help his case unless he grants 
that the nature of the function or " phenomenon " determines the nature 
of the subject, in which case Kant would escape materialism, but would 
at the same time be absolutely forced to regard spiritualism as proved, 
since the admitted simplicity of consciousness would carry with it the 
simplicity of the subject, and hence the conclusion of Mendelssohn. 

Kant assumes that mathcjtzatzcal and physical divisibility are the 
same or mutually implicative. This can be denied. Infinite mathe- 
matical divisibility does not imply any physical divisibility whatever. 
Matter might occupy all the space you please and be absolutely indi- 
visible physically without its annihilation. Kant ought to have seen 
this with his doctrine of space which was not only subjective but so 
distinct from the nature of matter that you could not argue from one 
to the other. Besides having said that space is not constituted by 
" points " how could he even make space divisible in any way ever 
to reach " points" at all. The materialist's " divisibility " was not 



SPIRITUALISM. 501 

concerned with this mathematical problem and was not even condi- 
tioned by the elementary nature of the constituents of its compounds . 
What it meant by divisibility was resolution into parts in a manner 
which destroyed certain functions in the process. Kant misses this 
point in the hairsplitting arguments upon which he relies while char- 
acterizing them by this very defect. 

But the most interesting fact is that Kant insists that there are 
arguments for the existence and continuance of the soul that are valid. 
These, however, are said to be the products of the " practical reason," 
whose meaning no man has ever yet discovered clearly, unless it is 
identical with the "intuition" of "common sense" which it is the 
delight of the idealists and Kantians to despise. They are as full of 
paralogisms as the arguments of the dogmatists, and have no value 
tmless reducible to logical form. Kant was simply throwing a sop to 
Cerberus in them, and since his time every one who has felt the force 
of his criticism of " rationalism " has also felt the fatal weakness of the 
practical arguments, because no one takes his " practical" arguments 
seriously when accepting the cogency of the others in the negative 
result. Every intelligent man sees their worthlessness as " proof " and 
for the same reasons that he assumes the failure of dogmatism. Phi- 
losophers are rather ashamed to use such arguments. I grant that we 
cannot see how life and its ideals and morality can be completely 
rational without survival after death. But then things may not be com- 
pletely rational at all. Proof of survival may be the condition of show- 
ing that things are rational in the direction of that ideal whose integ- 
rity is interested in the issue, and if that is not proved or provable, we 
certainly do not have the evidence of any rationality apparent in the 
course of things that extends beyond the " phenomenal" existence of 
the present. The whole movement in thought since Kant has been in 
this direction, and refuses to measure the value and meaning of the 
present by the future, even though it finds in the persistence and unity 
of consciousness at present a fact which materialism has trouble in ex- 
plaining. In this development philosophy has been more consistent 
than Kant. I do not deny that Kant was right in his estimate of the 
relation between the moral law and a future existence, as I think the 
argument certainly appeals to men who have felt the springs of that 
law and who yet had no quarrel with nature for apparent injustice. 
But I must contend that the argument is worthless unless it is recon- 
cilable with the metaphysical questions which insist upon haunting 
■our reflections and scientific theories of present facts. It is the absurd 
dualism between the "theoretical" and the "practical" reason that 



502 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

creates offence. There is no more rational ground for following 
" practical" reason than there is for accepting the conclusions of the 
" theoretical." Our duty is to purge " rationalism " of its real or sup- 
posed fallacies, not to repudiate the process, especially when we can- 
not show its weakness without accepting the logical processes which it 
was the real or apparent object of Kant to discredit. This appeal 
to the " practical " reason only took the matter of belief out of the 
hands of sane and reflective thinking and simply handed it over to the 
caprices of the individual emotions where the " will " to disbelieve 
would be as valid as the " wdll to believe." What Kant should have 
recognized was the fact that criticism must be applicable to all argu- 
ments or none and that the methods of " speculative" reason are as 
legitimate as those of the " practical " and that error arises in the failure 
to investigate fallacies and not in the use of reason as an instrument. 

7. There is a sceptical difficulty with materialism which I have 
reserved for consideration in this connection, and which the materialist 
seems never to have suspected, and for w^iich he has never provided 
any adequate protection of himself, though in many instances he has 
admitted the facts which suggest a difficulty in his system. It is an 
objection which characterizes the idealist's point of view, and comes 
from conclusions established or supposed to have been established bv 
epistemology. It is the general antithesis between the subjective and 
objective. Idealism in almost every form has carried this distinction 
to the whole field of reality, insisting that we do not know its " nature," 
but only its " appearance," or the wa)^ in which we are affected by it. 
Occasionally the idealist awakens to the fact that this antithesis dis- 
solves itself into unity, if I may use that expression, by the very exclu- 
sion from " knowledge" of that which is said to determine its limits 
and which becomes nothing in the problem, leaving thought w-here it 
was before, and reinstating objective reality in new terms. But usually 
the temptation is to keep up a passionate warfare against materialism, 
partly as an excuse for existence, partly as a blind refuge for religion, 
and mainly as an escape from the accusation of having common sense. 
Nevertheless, whatever the embarrassments it suffers in the struggle 
between doubt and belief, it enjoys the protection of facts which the 
materialist does not always face as fearlessly as he should. Idealism 
has abstracted sensible properties from the " nature " of things and 
limited our right to claim " knowledge " for an^-thing but this sensible 
" experience," insisting that which transcends this fact cannot be 
called by the same name as the sensible reality, if nameable at all. 
When the idealist discovered the subjectivity of certain significant facts 



SPIRITUALISM. 503 

he at once set about examining its consequences. His opponent never 
did so. The materialist has not been careful of the conceptions which 
he used in the construction of his theory. When certain facts have 
pressed upon him the relativity and phenomenality of his " experience" 
he has accepted this view^ without asking any questions about the 
remainder of the facts in the same field. Thus Epicurus admitted the 
subjectivity of color perception, meaning that color, as we perceive it, 
did not correctly represent the qualitative nature of the object that 
acted on the organism, but was the effect of the subject in reaction. 
All this was familiar to Plato and the Sophists, but it did not occur to 
the materialists that the same treatment might be accorded to the 
"perception" of motion. After discovering that sensible qualities 
were " phenomenal" or relative to the subject, they still went on with 
the assumption that motion was not " phenomenal," and materialists 
ever since have failed to see that their conception of motion was 
chargeable with being subjective quite as much as color or sound, and 
that, if the abstraction of such facts from the " nature" of objective 
reality necessitates the description of that reality in terms of what had 
been supposed before, then the materialistic point of view has to 
surrender to the immaterialistic. This is to say, that the antithesis 
between the subjective and objective, if granted at all, must be extended 
to the whole field of sensory determinations, and if the materialistic 
view is to be conceived as convertible with sensible conceptions of 
reality, the supersensible, if distinguishable from it, must be treated 
as immaterialistic. This, of course, is precisely the contention of 
idealism which insists, implicitly or explicitly, that there is no identity 
between the subjective and the objective as apparent, no transmission 
or injluxus fhysicus of the external into the internal, and hence ex- 
cludes the right to describe them in terms implying their identity. 
The materialist identifies them and may consistently identify them,, 
provided that he constructs a theory of the relation between the sub- 
jective and objective that either makes that identity intelligible or 
qualifies the antithesis by limitations which will permit the applica- 
tion of some of our terms and conceptions to a reality which is not 
sensible. The materialist makes this application of concepts to the 
supersensible, but he forgets that, in doing so, he often has to admit the 
same difference between the supersensible and the sensible which the 
idealist insists upon as a ground for applying terms implying an antith- 
esis. That is to say, the materialist is forced to accept the antithesis 
between the sensible and the supersensible, the difference between the 
abstract reality accepted as the ground of events and the concrete 



504 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

"phenomenon" which is regarded as the symljol of its presence and 
ought to see, when he accepts the fact, that the opposition between 
liis position and that of the idealist is not wliat it was supposed to 
be, and that a Httle critical analysis of his concept of motion might 
prove that he has " dematerialized " this conception and that it no 
longer represents the sensible fact which he assumes in his argu- 
ment and theories. He starts with the sensible fact called " motion," 
which he defines as a change in place, and then turns up at the end 
with the same term applied to real or aUeged facts, such as the 
undulations of heat, light and electricity, which can have no sen- 
sible meaning wdiatever and which are quite as supersensible as the 
atoms and molecules which they are especially careful to describe as 
excluding all sensible verification and " perception." The supersen- 
sible nature of their reality, whether of substance and its activities, 
whether of matter or motion, especially in the dynamic theory of 
matter, is concealed by the fact that its concepts are never exposed to 
the criticism and analysis which are supposed to characterize the func- 
tions of philosophy and not of science, so that all sorts of contradic- 
tions are held together in scientific systems, partly because science is 
not made adequately responsible for consistency in the crude meta- 
physics assumed at its basis and partly because idealism has been too 
haughty to discuss the problems of philosophy in anv terms but those 
which could not be understood by science and that w^ould not offend 
any more than they would enlighten religion. But the moment that 
materialistic science required to give an explanation of a fact in terms 
of the known, it seized upon the concept of " motion," generalized it, 
thus making it abstract, and then described it as representing the 
" nature " of supersensible conditions, where almost anything can be 
said with impunity, because it can neither be verified nor disproved, 
unless the antithesis with which it starts is modified. The materialist 
has unconsciously performed the same abstraction as the idealist and 
landed in precisely the same position, the onlv difference being that 
he clings for dear life to a terminology associated with sensorv " ex- 
perience," while the idealist adopts the language of intellectualism and 
evades the suspicion of agreement with materialism only because of his 
language which still carries with it the implications of the dualism 
which he strenuously denies. 

I must remind the reader, however, that the difliculty with ma- 
terialism which I have just discussed is not fatal to all forms of the 
theory. I have only been showing that, when its position with regard 
to fundamental conceptions has been critically examined, it is not found 



SPIRITUALISM. 505 

to be different from idealism which so rigorously opposes it. The ma- 
terialism which camiot be so easily attacked is that which frankly uses 
the term " matter" to denote supersensible reality, and explains " phe- 
nomena " as functional resultants of composition, while it does not care 
what we choose to call this reality. I have already shown that it 
would not alter the problem of the nature and limits of consciousness 
in the slightest, if we called this supersensible reality "spirits" and 
yet treated all qualities as functional resultants of their composition. 
The problem is not effected by the name that we shall give to ultimate 
reality, but by the relation of " phenomena" to it, whatever its name. 
Hence materialism in all its real import will not be refuted by dialec- 
tical criticism of its conception of " motion," or of its sensible ter- 
minology, but only by showing that consciousness is not a functional 
consequence of composition. But nevertheless, it is a step in the direc- 
tion of either harmony or of its refutation, if we show that it accepts 
an antithesis between the subjective or objective in its estimation of the 
sensible world and does not carry out this antithesis consistently. If 
we can show that there is much the same difference, perhaps abso- 
lutely the same difference, between its sensible " matter" and its super- 
sensible " matter" that the idealist, on the one hand, supposes between 
" appearance" and " reality," and that the spiritualist, on the other, 
supposes between " matter" and "spirit," we shall do much to open 
the way, not only to conciliation, but also to some rational reconstruc- 
tion of philosophy consistently with the achievements of science. The 
materialist's advantage lies in his use of terms which he does not criti- 
cise and his appeal to the concrete and sensible, while he neglects to 
notice or to point out that his "real" world of existence, causal 
agency, etc., is not sensible at all, but something quite as supersensible 
as the " reality " of his opponents, though he goes on making affirma- 
tions that are intelligible only on the assumption that he is dealing 
with a sensible world, whose antithesis vs^ith the supersensible is con- 
cealed by an identity of terms and yet resorted to whenever he gets 
into trouble with any conscious conception of their identity. But if in 
reality there is an antithesis between the sensible facts which he is ex- 
plaining and the reality supposed to explain them ; if, for instance, to 
be concrete, there is an antithesis or difference in kind between sen- 
sible motion and the " motion" to which the materialist appeals for 
explanation of facts and which is purely supersensible, the distinction 
here involved between the two facts, the visible and invisible, the 
tangible and intangible, the audible and inaudible, etc., may possibly 
be treated as implying that we have no more right to describe both of 



5o6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

them in terms of " motion" than we have to apply the term color with 
an identical imjDort to the sensation and to the vibrations supposed to 
instigate it. Supersensible " motion " is therefore not "motion" at 
all, when measured in terms of the sensible fact, or if wo. so denomi- 
nate it, we cannot apply the term to the sensible fact, unless we can 
qualify the antithesis with which we start. In either case we have 
transcended the sensible " phenomenon " in a way that identifies the 
materialist's conception of the case with that of his opponents. The 
ultimate nature of phenomenal "reality" is not "motion" as we 
know it sensibly, even though it may prove to have elements of simi- 
larity in it with what we " know," so that the materialist ought not to 
have any trouble in supposing the possibility that it is consciousness. 
The materialist is in a dilemma here. If motion is a purelv sensible 
determination, consciousness and motion are identical and " realitv " is 
in antithesis to both. If it is supersensible, there is no way to exclude 
the possibility that it is consciousness, and he has to conceive it pre- 
cisely as the idealist and spiritualist wish to conceive it, namely, as not 
motional in the sensible implications of the term. On the one hand, 
therefore, this possibility of identity between the two conceptions 
would indicate that we might call consciousness a mode of motion, 
provided that we kept clear the fact that we conceived it as super- 
sensible and not a sensible " phenomenon," and on the other, the 
antithesis, if granted, puts consciousness beyond the materialist's expla- 
nation. The only difficulty that we should have to meet in the identi- 
fication of the supersensible with motion would be that of getting those 
who have not recognized this supersensible application of the term to 
eliminate the associations and implications of the term in sensible 
" experience." But apart from this purelv verbal difficulty the ma- 
terialist is in fact too nearly in agreement with his opponents to justify 
the animosities of his position. 

8. There is another fact which results in a complete annihilation of 
the old materialistic theory and leaves nothing behind it but the name. 
It is the vortex-atom theory, and possibly also the new theorv that the 
previously assumed atom is not simple at all, but a ver}- highly complex 
thing, a compound of " ions," " electrons," etc., whatever these mys- 
terious entities are. But the vortex-atom theor\- of matter was and is 
an attempt to reduce matter to a differentiated form of ether. The sup- 
position of the existence of ether has been demanded on the ground 
that various " phenomena" like heat, light, magnetism and electricity 
require some such reality distinct from the solid universe for the propa- 
gation of their vibrations. This ether has been described in terms that 



SPIRITUALISM. 507 

are completely the negative of matter. It has not a single property by 
which we define material existence, except extension, and this is not 
properly a property of matter. It is miiversally distributed through 
space, not subject to the law of gravitation, perfectly penetrable, super- 
sensible in all its conditions, and so without a single indication of 
identity even with supersensible matter. It can be described only in 
negative terms. Sir Oliver Lodge distinctly affirmed that this reality 
was different from matter. Now we are asked to regard " matter" as 
constituted by vortex-atoms of this ether, units of that which is not 
" matter" at all ! At other times the materialist contradicts this posi- 
tion by defining ether as a form of matter, in w^hich the generic con- 
ception is not ether, while in the former case this conception is ether. 
But in any case the term " matter" has to be so generalized and the 
abstraction of such qualities as we know in matter carried so far that 
the conception has no controversial capacity in the discussion of prob- 
lems like the nature and destiny of mind. Such a conception of 
" matter" can oppose neither idealism nor spiritualism. We find In 
this conception an actual return to the doctrine that " matter" is a cre- 
ated and " phenomenal " thing, even in its atomic form, and something 
transcending its nature is assumed at the background of the universe, 
so that there is nothing left of the old materialism but the name, while 
disputants on both sides imitate the " heroes of Valhalla who are for- 
ever hewing down shadows that only spring up again to rene'w their 
ceaseless and bloodless conflict." 

The elasticity of materialism, in the use of language and in illus- 
tration from fact, is so great that no man without the sense of humor 
will easily discover the weak points in its armor. Fortunately for it 
the progress of knowledge in refining the conception of matter has 
associated with it such a wonderful range of capacity and function for 
producing delicate effects rivaling the mysteries of mind, that it may 
easily retain the apparent consistency of its philosophy with every 
change of its mask. But if the antagonistic theory could restrain the 
traditional habit of contradiction and seize the opportunities offered by 
the appropriation of the materialist's own conceptions, it might bring 
the enemy in a captive on its own terms, even if its only weapon is 
faith, since the elastic possibilities of the material world transcend all 
that theology could ever have concretely imagined in the world of 
spirit. But it is extremely unfortunate that the enmity is so hered- 
itary, that it conceals the actual commerce of supersensible reality 
which determines the legitimate province of both world views. I 
cannot, however, enter into any positive defense of the spiritualistic 



3oS THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

theory, as there can be only one conclusive proof of it in the face of the 
materialistic elasticity indicated and the simple nature of the evidential 
problem, and this is the proof of actual survival after death. That is 
a scientific, and not what is usually called a philosophic problem. 
Philosophy will have to learn humility and to admit its limitations, 
and that its assurances are bounded by the achievements of the experi- 
mental sciences. All that a work of this kind can effect is a critic of 
materialistic dogmatism, with an indication of the direction which in- 
vestigation and reflection must take in the hope of a solution of the 
question and the realization of its ideals. 

Summary. 
I may briefly summarize the facts which make a spiritual view of 
man's consciousness and its survival possible. The facts indicated will 
not prove it, but they will show that tendency of physical science which 
unmistakably indicates a conception of matter quite consistent with 
the ancient notion of spirit instead of excluding it, and makes it merely 
a question of the kind of facts in our possession whether we have not 
evidence of discarnate existence. Whether we have any such evidence 
is not the claim in this work, but only that physical science not only 
has nothing to contradict the acquisition of such evidence, but actually 
provides a condition of things that implies its possibility. 

1. The first thing to remark is the fact that the whole super- 
structure of modern physical science rests upon a supersensible world. 
This was even true of ancient Greek thought in spite of its opposition 
to the Christian spiritual system. The atomic doctrine represented the 
elements as wholly supersensible and its advocates called it matter 
simply because Greek thought ^vas based upon material causation or 
the principle of identity in the explanation of things. In so far as the 
manner of conceiving the atoms in relation to sense \vas concerned it 
might as well have called its elements " spirit " as to have called them 
matter. But this would have troubled its imagination in the use of its 
favorite maxim of causation. Hence the supersensible world "vvas 
called matter in spite of its non-sensory character. " Spirit," there- 
fore, if it comprehended anv facts not explicable bv either sensible or 
supersensible " matter," had to describe itself as " immaterial," as ^ve 
find was actually the case in the speculative philosophv of Christianitv. 
But at first it was practically identical with the supersensible of 
materialism, as is apparent in the Epicurean doctrine of the soul and 
the Christian doctrine of the resurrection of the " spiritual " bodv. 

2. The modern conception of matter is still more a departure from 



SPIRITUALISM. 509 

the ancient theory and in some sense also a departure from that which 
was held for several previous centuries. The doctrine of the inde- 
structibility of matter was a return to the ancient view that "matter" 
was the one eternal reality and all else was its phenomenon. Matter 
took the place of God in the Christian scheme. But the reduction of 
matter to vortex atoms of ether, and later to a form of electrical energy 
composed of " electrons " and " ions " are conceptions that assume it 
to be evanescent and perishable, or at least creatable. No application 
of the term " matter" to these ultimates out of which it is presumably 
created or evolved can be made without abandoning the antithesis 
between "matter" and " spirit" as they were anciently conceived, or 
even down to very recent times. 

3. The existence of ether as a substance or reality which exhibits 
none of the sensible or other properties of matter, save extension, is 
also a refinement of the conceptions of metaphysics that either assumes 
something immaterial or extends the idea of " matter " so generally 
that it again offers no important opposition to that of " spirit " as 
merely the " immaterial." Besides the fact that not even gravity or 
weight is predicated of the ether is one that justifies objection to calling 
it " matter," unless we abandon the old implications of antithesis to 
" spirit " as once understood. 

4. The supersensible world of X-rays, radioactive energies, Hert- 
zian waves, and perhaps N-rays, is the admission of a vast cosmos of 
energies that do not exhibit any direct evidence of their existence, but 
that prove this by their effects in the sensible world. The establish- 
ment of this supersensible world simply breaks down the old sensa- 
tional materialism finally, though it may have survived the catastrophe 
of the difficulties previously mentioned. The possibility of "spirit" 
in any sense cannot be denied after the admission of these supersensible 
agencies, because they extend the limits of the material so far beyond 
what they have previously been supposed that the immaterial will be 
but a question of the word employed to describe the real nature of 
things. 

5. The supposed inconvertibility of physical and mental phe- 
nomena, though consistent with the materialistic theory in one con- 
ception of causality, namely, that of efficient causalit}^, is not con- 
sistent with that of material causality, and if materialism were con- 
vertible with this latter view it would be wholly incompatible v\^ith the 
vievv^ that consciousness is a fvmctional epiphenomenon. In any case 
this assumed inconvertibility of the physical and mental makes it pos- 
sible to suppose another subject for the mental than the physical or- 



5IO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ganism, and would make it necessary were we to deny an efficient 
causal nexus between the two series. 

6. If such a thing as the soul actually exists either as a " fine ma- 
terial " organism, after the conception of the Epicureans, or as an 
ethereal organism, or as the theosophists' "astral body," we might 
well use the principle involved in the indestructibility of matter to 
suggest the survival of the soul after death. The only question that 
would remain is whether its identity, that is, personal identity, also 
survived. It is assumed in the indestructibility of matter that it under- 
goes various transformations in its changes and multiform compo- 
sitions and syntheses. Two facts, however, seem to show that matter 
retains its identity in all its metamorphoses and compositions. The 
first is that it never loses any weight or gravity in any of its changes of 
form. Whatever change of other properties or function occurs this 
one property remains unaltered, and if it did not remain so, there 
would be no evidence of indestructibility. This retention of its abso- 
lute identity in one respect or in one essential characteristic is abso- 
lutely necessary to the proof of indestructibility and is the fact that 
constitutes its identity in change. On this assumption and analogy 
the soul might retain its function of consciousness without being af- 
fected by the change called death. There is no proof of it in the mere 
fact of indestructibility, especially that many properties and functions 
seem to be destroyed by dissolution of compounds, and it must be a 
question of evidence to determine whether any particular function is 
evanescent. The second fact is that the elements retain their identity, 
according to physical scientists, throughout all their changes and are 
apparently modified only in combination. But even here isomorphism 
and the similar effects of an element in various compounds suggests 
some characteristic of identity in combinations. And further the im- 
portant fact that, in the law of Mendelejeff the elements are classified 
according to relations of specific gravity and other associated proper- 
ties, which suggest an origin from some ultimate single substance, is 
one that indicates an identity of some kind at the basis of all phe- 
nomenal action. The existence and sur\'ival of a soul would thus 
carry the presumption of possible identity in its migration from the 
organism. All that would be wanting to prove it would be evidence 
of this identity in fact. Even in allotropism and isomerism some ele- 
ments of identity remain, so that everywhere that indestructibilitv ex- 
hibits itself there is the possibility of some functional identitv remain- 
ing independent of change and accident. 

7. The history of the localization of brain functions rather suggests 



SPIRITUALISM. 5 i I 

the existence of an agency other than the brain to account for the phe- 
nomena of consciousness. Some of the Greeks naively believed that 
the soul was situated in the stomach, others in the heart. But later 
men came to believe that it w'as situated in the brain. The older view 
conceived its particular seat as its organ. That is, the stomach or 
heart was supposed to be the instrument by w^hich it revealed its ex- 
istence, and so assumed that the soul was not a function of that particu- 
lar center. But the moment that modern physiology located the soul 
in the brain and made other centers dependent upon it, the consequence 
was that, whatever functions were exercised by other centers, they were 
initiated from without. The stomach and heart, in this new view, do 
not originate their functional activities, but derive their impulses from 
the brain centers. This is in accordance with the general doctrine of 
inertia. But it was still assumed that the brain could originate func- 
tional action as a center wherever the theory of materialism existed 
and which supposed that all consciousness was a function of the brain 
and not a function of some other agent associated with the brain. This 
general conception of brain function was worked out in detail first by 
phrenology and later in a different w^ay by the physiology of brain 
functions definitely and specifically localized, but in a manner nullify- 
ing the opinions of phrenology. Later, however, this doctrine of 
localization has been so modified as to indicate that the brain as a 
whole functions in consciousness. But this view is followed by a later 
doctrine that the brain and its centers are merely points through which 
energy flows in the manifestation of consciousness. This is an aban- 
donment of the idea that the brain originates the functional activities 
manifested in consciousness, and extends the doctrine of inertia still 
farther, so that consciousness, as a function, seems to arise from with- 
out the brain and simply manifests its existence by its effects in the 
physical organism or the physical universe. This assumes that, in all 
organisms, action is initiated from without, and so implies the exist- 
ence of an agent foreign to the body. All that has to be done after 
this is to apply the doctrine of the indestructibility of matter or energy 
to maintain the possibility that this agent can exist independently of 
the organism and after its dissolution. We should only have to seek 
evidence of personal identity to indicate that it was a fact and not 
merely a possibility. I do not say that the latest theory of brain func- 
tions is correct. It may not be so. I only indicate that the physiolo- 
gist who adopts it has to face a conclusion which was not consistent 
with the earlier conceptions of his science. 

8. That the -whole question turns upon the evidence for the con- 



512 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tinuity of consciousness or functional personal identity will be appar- 
ent from several facts, (a) In the dissolution of all compounds some 
characteristic is ajDparently wholly lost. For instance, the power of 
water to quench fire is not retained in its elements. Hence the inde- 
structibility of matter leaves open the question whether consciousness 
is an accident of composition or a fundamental attribute of an organ- 
ism or monad that survives change. (<$) The evidence for the reten- 
tion of identity in phenomenal changes as represented by the conser\'-a- 
tion of energy is not so clear as in the indestructibility of matter. The 
retention of gravity is the evidence of this in the doctrine of the in- 
destructibility of matter, but in the phenomena illustrating the conser- 
vation (correlation, as shown above is the better conception for the 
facts) of energy there is not always the evidence, if it ever exists, that one 
of the terms is converted into the other in anv way to involve identity 
of kind in functional action. Hence qualitatively the conservation of 
energy is an undecided doctrine, and is so undetermined that some will 
tell us that it is only the quantit}^ of energy that remains the same. 
Assuming, therefore, that qualitatively there is a change we find that 
the facts wovild seem to imply that consciousness, if any attempt were 
made to bring it under the conservation of energy, would not retain its 
identity in any transformation of which it might be conceived as capa- 
ble. If the conservation of energy be true qualitatively the retention 
of its identity would follow as a necessity and the problem of a future 
life solved within the domain of physics. But it is the doubt about 
this continuity in kind that makes it necessary to prove personal iden- 
tity as ^fact to assure ourselves either that the conservation of energy 
favors the belief or that it is true independently of that doctrine. The 
problem thus becomes scientific rather than philosophic. 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 



The layman never fully realizes the vastness of his problem when 
he begins to discuss the existence of God. He is not even aware of 
the various influences that make it a problem for him ; but between a 
semi-philosophic mood on the nature of tilings and a moral interest in 
the dispensation of a system forcing upon him the sense of dependence 
and inviting curiosity in regard to his destiny, he invokes a conception 
that hovers about the horizon of history and hope with all the haze 
and majesty of both poetry and religion, seeking a justification at the 
hands of philosophy. He only discovers his exposure to illusion when 
he begins to criticize what poetry never understands and never pre- 
tends to take as real. The progress of intelligence involves him in 
questions of doubt and assertion which are not on the surface of his 
reflections, while both his poetry and religion have only followed the 
lead of fancy after science had formed systematic and supersensible con- 
ceptions of the world. The unity of nature was the precursor of a revo- 
lution in other ideas. The original impulses of mankind seem not to have 
troubled the imagination with any single sovereignty over the processes 
of " nature" except that of Fate. The gods were as numerous as the 
elements and it was only v\daen the unity of the cosmos forced itself 
upon conviction that the divine also "assumed a monotheistic concep- 
tion. In Greek thought this did not take the form of a creator of the 
world, but only of its providential ordering. Matter w^as conceived as 
coeternal with God, but subject to his plastic hand as a disposer except 
in the Epicurean system where the gods had to be relegated to the in- 
termnndia in order to eliminate their caprices from disturbing the 
proper order of nature and for the purpose of rendering them harmless, 
so that there could be no motive for the interference of divine power. 
Only in some of the best poets did the conception of Jupiter take on char- 
acteristics inviting to respect and reverence. The minor gods and all 
conceptions of the divine in general parlance represented a system of 
tyrannical and irresponsible agencies without moral character or human 
interest and no better, or even worse, than the order of nature. This 
could be reckoned with for regularity, but the gods never. This un- 
ideal character of the divine exhibited itself wherever polytheism pre- 
33 5f3 



5^4 ^^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

vailed and it was the moralization of man beyond and above the con- 
ception of the gods that gave scepticism its sting when it attacked 
their existence. Pow-er without morality was the conception which 
described them, as this immunity was the ideal of Greek life, and it 
reflected itself even in the monotheistic conception, save as this was 
modified by the higher idea of yEschylus and others. But at no time 
did the conception of God as primarily interested in man for man's 
own sake become a prevalent idea of Greek thought. Justice and not 
mercy was his chief attribute. But, as I have already remarked, 
Christianity gave the idea a new content and relation. It made God 
the creator of the cosmos both sensible and supersensible, conceived 
his relation to it as predetermining its order in behalf of the present 
and future interest of man, insisted upon his personality, and estab- 
lished such a social relation between himself and his creatures as re- 
dounded equally to the honor of the divine as bestower and to the 
benefit of man as the recipient. Mercy was added to justice as his 
attribute. 

I In the manifold exigencies of mediaeval civilization and speculation 
these various conceptions, associated wdth many details in a providen- 
tial scheme, worked themselves out into a dogmatic system and be- 
came implicated in the nature and validity of many dialectical and 
metaphysical doctrines of an exceedingly dubious character. It would 
be no light task merely to trace the development of this movement, 
and though it w^ould not be wholly thankless, it is not necessary for 
the purposes of this w^ork to rethresh any barren straw' for the small 
amount of wheat to be found in its chaff. It is possible to traverse 
the great ideas associated wdth the name of God and to examine one 
of the immemorial problems of philosophy without any elaborate his- 
torical analysis of mediaeval thought. We cannot, however, whollv 
ignore the setting which it received in the discussions of Kant. That 
philosopher is supposed to have put an end to legitimate discussion of 
the problem along the lines of traditional argument and to have left the 
idea to the irresponsible deliverances of faith and intuition, which no 
one any longer trusts. I do not think, how'ever, that it was the dia- 
lectic treatment of the question by Kant that placed the existence of 
God among the relics in the museum of antiquities or jeopardized its 
validity and power. This was only the excuse for influences that no 
more embodied themselves in logical forms like the antinomies than 
did Kant's " practical " reasons for the validity of the belief, though 
they are capable of that organization. The chief factor in the decline 
of the conception and belief has been the progress of science, and it 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 515 

was only when the philosopher had to seek some plausible excuse for 
his indifference to the question, or for his incompetence in the discus- 
sion of it, that he sought a defence in the dialectics of Kant. The idea 
simply died the natural death of miracles and for the same reason, 
namely, its incompatibility with the facts of science. Mr. Lecky has 
correctly shown that it was not philosophic argument that was the 
chief agency in causing the decline of the belief in the supernatural, 
but it was the gradual elanguescence of it owing to the slow saturation 
of the public mind with the ideas of science and physical law. It was 
the same with the belief in the existence of God, and the tribute paid 
to Kant's antinomies is either an afterthought or ignorance of the real 
influences at work. The two conceptions which it was difficult to 
■withstand were the indestructibility of matter and the conservation of 
energy, as dispensing with the necessity of creation in any form. As 
long as it was assumed that matter and motion were created, that is, 
had a beginning in time, the conception of God was a necessary com- 
plement of it. It was not a question of " ontological," cosmological, 
or teleological arguments, but of necessary implication in the real or 
supposed facts with wdiich reflection started. All the rest was a mat- 
ter of detail rendering intelligible a cosmic order once initiated. But 
the moment that science proved the persistence of matter in all its 
changes of form and the conservation of energy in all its transforma- 
tions, a perfectly definite evasion of the old implication was made pos- 
sible, and from that time the traditional conception of God was doomed 
either to extinction or revision. The facts afforded a substitute idea 
for the explanation of the cosmos, if explanation it be, and the law of 
parsimony in human thought will not tolerate two rival contestants for 
the explanation of the same phenomena. The consequence has been 
that in proportion as the new conception could work itself into the de- 
tails of cosmic events, extending our ignorance of its plan as much as 
our knowledge of its laws, just in that proportion has the scholastic 
idea of God suffered eclipse or gradually retired into that limbo of for- 
gotten intellectual furniture which can no longer excite any but an an- 
tiquarian interest. In its place has appeared the conception of " Na- 
ture " and its " laws." Personality and providence have disappeared 
behind the clouds of science and an impersonal order substituted for 
divine beneficence. The conception of " Nature," as a substitute, will 
not bear analysis, because it is a name for a fact, not for a cause. But 
it is convenient for limiting the pretensions of knowledge where the 
temptations of its devotees would be to try the revelation of a rational 
order for which the evidence is insufficient. 



5l6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

As long as any fixed order is admitted by man, it will check the 
presumption that desires too readily to personify it ; not because that 
personification is impossible, but because it is either evidentially weak 
or supports no personality inconsistent with the stability of the cosmic 
order. If the whole system can be described as an undeviating one no 
demands can be made on its charity which are inconsistent with the 
general plan. Hence the idea of " Nature" is a useful one for check- 
ing spiritual pride and arrogance, and teaching man that, whatever 
ideals he cherishes, he must conform his life to an inflexible order. 
But he is never satisfied with such a system unless he can believe that 
it is personal. The Greeks were so prepossessed with the idea that 
personality was capricious and lawless and that nature represented a 
fateful mechanical order that the Christian obtained his footing by a 
doctrine of personal creation making the Divine benevolent to com- 
pensate for the apparently tragic fixity of nature. Man has had to 
qualify personality with mercy as a limitation to capriciousness. 
He can submit with patience and hope to an unchangeable mechanism 
and to the disappointment of many of his ideals, if he can venture to 
believe that somehow the process of evolution will respect the chief 
values which it has itself created. The conception of God ^vas 
the last effort of philosophy to secure a basis for such hopes, and 
suffers only because the evidence for them seems less cogent than is 
desired. In addition to being the supposed cause of the order in which 
we live and have our being, God is also the idealization of all that man 
can conceive of the true, the beautiful and the good. This can be said 
in spite of the hideous dogmas that have been associated with the 
scheme of Christian belief in some of its forms. If it had not been for 
this idealization of the concept, man would not have felt so keenly the 
loss of it attributed to the progress of science and the dialectics of 
Kant. The progress in his civilization, involving the humanizing of 
all his instincts and his rising above " nature" while he obeyed it, left 
behind it that reverence for personality which can never be bestowed 
upon a mechanical system, whatever source of pleasure and admiration 
it may represent, and the consequence is that he may never willingly 
abandon the effort to see in the course of things, which extorts from 
him so imperiously the feeling of dependence, that rational movement 
of intelligence and hope which must always color ^vith its o^vn hues 
his little span of toil and care. 

But it is precisely because of this rich personal content that the 
conception is exposed to the cruelties of criticism. In the order which 
man himself makes he is a master and his creations form the standard 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. S^l 

by which he is wont to judge " nature " that marks with a shadow 
whatever beneficence it exhibits. Man's moral nature is accustomed 
to think that it cannot look on that Medusa head and live. The flush 
of conquest which he feels in his triumphs over physical " nature " 
will not easily inspire respect for the object that is so plastic to his 
own will, though the reserve of unconquered power that it shows can 
still invoke his fear, and he turns. Psyche like, to indulge his curiosity 
and hope in uncovering Pandora's box only to find that " the earth, 
green as she looks, rests everywhere on dread foundations were we 
further down and Pan, to whose music the n^axiphs dance, has a cry 
in him that can drive all men distracted," The beautiful vision of 
poetry and religion in that discovery turns into a waste, and criticism 
leaves an inheritance of ignorance which it conceals in the name of 
" Nature." Whether we shall ever get beyond this condition of mind 
depends as much upon our revision of the traditional conception of 
" Nature " as upon the revision of that of God. The arguments remain 
as they always have been, only awaiting the conception and the facts 
vv^hich are to determine the measure, of their applicability. 

Philosophy has generally conceded the forcefulness of the Kantian 
antinomies, and in most cases their conclusive influence in favor of 
agnosticism, which in actual convictions has amounted to a denial. 
These antinomies were conceived as dividing the arguments equally 
for and against the infinity of the world in time and space, the freedom 
of the will, and the existence of God, But I mean here to challenge 
the solidity of this position. I do not think that'any such antinomies 
exist as Kant affirms, I shall not deny a certain kind of formal difficulty 
in the discussion of the questions proposed, but it is a perplexity that 
is created by a total misconception of what the problem of explanation 
is and of the source of the alleged antinomies. That the antinomies are 
not so clear can be shown, I think, in the simple fact that an analysis 
of the concepts which gave Kant his trouble would have dissolved 
the antinomies into air. They grow wholly out of equivocations in 
the terms that suggest them. Take the instance of the controversy 
regarding the finitude and the infinitude of the world. In stating his 
case Kant should have given us a preliminary conception of what he 
meant by the " world." The whole force of the antithesis between 
the two views and the difficulty of obtaining conviction for one side or 
the other is the equivocal import of the term " world." That term is 
sometimes used to denote the physical universe in space and time and 
not including space and time themselves. At other times it includes 
these, and consequently alters the right to apply various predicates to it. 



5l8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Again the term is often convertible with the seyisible physical world as 
distinct both from space and time and from the supersensible physical 
world whether distinct from space and time or not. Now whether 
finitude or infinitude is predicable of this "world" will depend wholly 
upon which conception of the term is adopted. If it denotes the sen- 
sible universe to the exclusion of space and time, there can be no ques- 
tion whatever of its finitude and the assertion of the possibility of the 
opposite is preposterous, and simply contrary to fact. Space and time 
are our sole measures of infinitude and of whatever objects we suppose 
this attribute we must at the same time assume them coterminous with 
space or time. The admitted infinitude of space and time from which 
the sensible world is supposedly excluded in the conception just men- 
tioned settles the question of its finitude once for all. On the other hand, 
if space and time are included in the conception of the " world" or uni- 
verse, there can equally be no question of its infinitude, as this character 
is imposed upon it by the inclusion of space and time in the thing 
named. Now Kant admits the infinitude of space and time and should 
have observed that the whole problem of finitude and infinitude was 
determined solely by the question of their inclusion or exclusion in the 
conception of the " w^orld " or " universe." The difficulty, of course, 
arose from the Cartesian and Spinozistic conception of matter which 
applied to a supersensible reality and was supposed to occupy all space, 
the sensible "world" being that modification of it apparent to sense. 
The question that Kant really raised was w^hether this supersensible 
"world" was finite or infinite, and he could well resolve that into 
Insoluble alternatives, while he omitted to recognize that it was the 
sensible " world" that had created the entire problem of philosophy. 
The same remarks apply to the question of its beginning in time. 
If time is a part of the " world" concerned, its beginning is an absurd 
assumption ; if it is not part of the " world," it is not absurd to sup- 
pose a beginning for it, but a question of evidence. If, assuming that 
time is not included in the conception, the " w^orld " is conceived as 
the sensible world of time, its finite character and its beginning in 
time is a given fact, and nothing can be more clear than this view on 
the premises of Kant's own system. For, space and time not being 
properties of reaXity per se and only "forms of perception," subjective 
products of the mind, the " material " world of sense had to be both 
finite and to have a beginning In time. But this way of looking at it 
as more or less unnecessary as well as unintelligible, the main point 
Is that the exclusion of time from the sensible " w'orld " involves Its 
beginning in that time. The whole of physical science is based upon 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 519 

the assumption that the sensible "world" had such a beginning. 
Otherwise its attempt to explain it by an antecedent cause is mani- 
festly absurd. The conception that gives trouble in supposing a begin- 
ning is either that which is an abstraction of the various conditions of 
reality representing a series of phenomena, in which the conception 
of the " world" would have no meaning, if we made it infinite, or that 
which tries to comprehend both the sensible and the supersensible 
" worlds " in its embrace. The " phenomenal world " has a beginning 
in time or it is not " phenomenal." The permanent element in it, if 
we may use that expression, has no beginning implied by what is 
manifestly temporal, except as its cause. We should have to seek 
independent evidence of its beginning. Kant simply forgot that he was 
dealing with highly refined abstractions of which nothing can really 
be said one way or the other. It is only the concrete that is open to 
determination. The concrete "world" of which we affirm a begin- 
ning is that which bears evidence on its face of its being " phenomenal." 
This evidence may be immediate or inferential, but one or the other, 
it is the condition for seeking any antecedent fact or cause whatever. 
If the " world " is the cause, its character, " phenomenal " or " nou- 
menal," cannot be assumed without defining the sense in which " cause " 
is taken. If it be phenomenal the word is a name for only what is 
known and that is finite and has a beginning. If it is a name for the 
noumenal, it is a word for the permanent element in concrete members 
of a series or congeries of events each of which has a beginning. But 
in no case can we discuss the problem without recognizing the equiv- 
ocal nature of our terms. 

That Kant did not discover the source of his logical difficulties is 
all the more remarkable when we examine his observations on some 
paradoxical statements of the Eleatic Zeno. Plato had chided that 
philosopher for saying that God (the " world") was neither finite nor 
infinite, in motion or at rest, or like or unlike anything else. Kant 
defends Zeno by first including space in the conception of the " world," 
a position which enables him to say correctly enough that this left no 
reality outside of it for comparison. To be like or unlike another 
requires that at least two should be given, that there should be this 
other given for comparison, and such could not be assumed when 
space and its total contents described all possible reality as the whole 
to which predicates were attachable. Of course, if there is only one 
thing in existence it cannot be said to be either like or unlike another. 
But Kant and Zeno secure the correctness of their position only by 
assuming a conception of their terms which is not in the minds of their 



520 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

opponents. The " world" of usual parlance is \vhat is in space and 
time, and generall}- is only the sensible in them. We can very well 
ascribe certain definite predicates to this in comparison with such things 
as space and time. It can be said to be either like or unlike these. 
Assuming again that the " world " is the " known " sensible " world " 
a comparison with the "known" supersensible "world" would be 
possible apart from their relation to space and time. This becomes 
perfectly apparent from Kant's isolation of the question of this 
" world's " finitude or infinitude from that of its qualitative compari- 
son with other things. He distinctly and deliberately postpones this 
question to take up that of the possible comparison of the "world " 
with something else. He thus obtains the advantage of impressing 
the reader with his initial correctness and the rest will be supposed to 
follow. But when he comes to take up the question of the " world's" 
infinitude he excludes space from it as a part of the necessary conception 
involved, which he has no right to do, if he still intends to defend 
Zeno, 

The supposed antinomy between determinism and freedom is a 
palpable absurdity when we consider that Kant finally asserts the fact 
of free will. His distinction between " phenomenal " and " noumenal " 
causation, or " empirical " determinism and " transcendental " freedom 
fools no one but those who love unintelligible phrases. There is no 
possible antithesis between " phenomenal " and " noumenal " causa- 
tion. The simple obsen/ation that he was dealing with different orders 
of events or facts, as his own theory of consciousness required him to 
do, w'ould have eliminated all antithesis between the " causality " of 
nature and the "causality" of volitions, and in fact the force of liis 
contention for freedom was actually based, consciously or uncon- 
sciously, upon this distinction ^vhich removed all excuse for supposing 
any antinomy in the problem of free will. Moreover, his " empirical" 
or "phenomenal" causation is not causation at all, but mere coexist- 
ence and sequence with causal efficiencv left out. His advocacy of 
free action, no matter how it was qualified, involved an absolute begin- 
ning of certain " phenomena " in direct opposition to the claims made 
in discussing the first antinomy. If anv events in the system of " phe- 
nomena " have a beginning it is only a question of evidence whether 
all antecedents are not in the same class. 

The antinomy about the existence of God is no better than the 
others. There is a certain impressiveness in both its strength and 
weakness as seen in the cosmological argument, though this is due to 
questions not discussed bv Kant at all. Its strength appears in the 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 521 

accepted fact that some things do actually begin in time and that their 
" cause " is sought in an antecedent fact. Its weakness lies in the sup- 
position that, if any "phenomena" are caused by antecedent "phe- 
nomena," there is no possibility of an absolute beginning in time, and 
that all causation necessarily involves antecedent " phenomena." The 
actual procedure of science is a regressus to anterior conditions which 
it treats as the cause of the consequent, but wdiose further origin it may 
not investigate or be able to discover, and hence it simply interprets 
the events which come within the range of experience as links in a 
chain without end, if it assumes that all antecedents must be " phe- 
nomena." It never reaches the prius or initium which the cosmo- 
logical argument is supposed to demand. But what I shall contend is 
that the cosmological argument misconceives the whole problem, and 
that any attempt to reduce the principle of causation to its type must 
result in giving up causation of any and all kinds whatever. What 
can be disputed at the outset is the assumption that causation neces- 
sarily involves antecedent "phenomena" and it is this assumption 
alone that gives the cosmological argument all the force which it 
appears to have. Every cause may be antecedent to its effect, but it 
is not necessarily an antecedent " phenomenon." Kant shows rather 
clearly that he would have accepted the claims of the cosmological 
point of view, if he could have done so free from the logical difficul- 
ties which incumber it ; for he returns to it again and again and accu- 
mulates upon it all the objections that it has to meet. But it is his 
false conception of causality that creates his difficulties at this point and 
his failure to realize the immovable importance of the fact that there 
are " phenomena " representing an absolute beginning in time, a fact 
that w^ould be impossible on the cosmological conception as it is 
abstractly represented. Such a fact certainly indicates some limits to 
the assertion that a finite regressus of phenomena is necessary to the 
supposition of original causation. If Kant had realized that the 
principle of causation was not " phenomenal" at all, he could have 
admitted any regressus that science might require, whether finite or 
infinite, and have remained undisturbed by the cosmological conception 
of the problem. In fact, his very conception of free causation recjuired 
him to place the notion of cause in the transphenomenal, as well as the 
conception of the reality that was assumed to produce sensation with- 
out being sensation. Had he had any right on his system to have a 
" thing in itself," which he said existed and yet \ve did not " know," 
we might effectively eradicate the difficulties Avhich he felt in the cos- 
mological argument ; for we have here a conception that defies the 



522 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

limitations of a finite regressus and which was yet the primary stage 
and type of causality in the early development of Kant's philosophy. 
At first his " thing in itself" was the cause of sensations, but this was 
finally thrown out as a reality unknown and " objects " retained in its 
place, but never made clear enough to know what they were or meant. 
A reformed " thing in itself," that is a subject of some kind as the 
basis of functional action, is what is necessary in the case, one which 
can exercise the function of causality without being itself a "phe- 
nomenon." Had Kant seen this his cosmological argument would 
have remained in the field of mere " science" where it belongs, this 
department of investigation being concerned with the /a wj' of " phe- 
nomena " and their association in antecedence and sequence, not with 
causal problems primarily or ultimately. It seeks antecedents, but 
does not require to determine that all antecedents shall be "phe- 
nomenal" or whether any of them may be " noumenal " or not, that 
is, whether they may be subjects giving rise to their own modes of 
action, such as free wills, Leibnitzian monads, individual centers of 
reference and action as creations of the Absolute or as modal manifes- 
tations of it, or Carlyle's " light sparkles floating in the ether of 
Deity." On such assumption the cosmological argument would have 
taken a subordinate place in his system. 

I do not criticise his treatment of the "ontological " argument, as 
that is conclusive enough from the definition and conception of it ad- 
vanced. Notliing can be clearer than the fact that the "idea" of a 
thing is no guarantee of its objective reality. The definition and con- 
ception of God no more carries with it his existence or the proof of it 
than the definition and conception of a Centaur guarantees its existence. 
No sort of logical legerdemain can construe the doctrine in anv other 
way, except by giving a certain specific meaning to the term " idea." 
I think that it is quite true that Kant's and the usual way of represent- 
ing this " ontological " argument may not be wholly just to its actual 
import in the minds of some philosophers. It may rightly characterize 
the positions of Anselm and Abelard and some of the Wolffians, but it 
does not correctly represent that of Descartes. This last philosopher 
did not rest the argument on the mere fact that we have an " idea " of 
God, such as the "idea" of a Centaur, or of a "Thaler" in one's 
pocket, but upon the peculiar character of that " idea." It was the 
necessity of the " idea" which determined the necessitv of supposing 
its objective and existential nature or reference. The "idea" of a 
Centaur, he would say, could not claim this character. Descartes 
was, therefore, quite consistent and invulnerable to Kant's criticism, 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 523 

as remarked by Kuno Fischer in his discussion of Descartes, though 
we may still have the privilege of disputing the correctness of Descartes' 
representation of the case. Hence I do not say or imply that Descar- 
tes was right in his position, but only that he does not seem to be 
amenable to Kantian criticism. We may question his view of what 
the " idea" of God is, namely, a necessary " idea," but once grant its 
unique character distinct from other " ideas" and the major premise 
of Kant's representation does not apply. But we may also say, or 
have said against us, that the Cartesian position is not properly " onto- 
logical." Descartes may beg the question, but his position is not 
refutable by premises founded upon "empirical" conceptions. I 
think I would quite agree that the basis of the argument is in reality 
changed by Descartes in his conception of it. It is not strictly 
" ontological " as that notion is usually defined. Kuno Fischer calls 
it the " anthropological " argument, conditioning the application of 
the "ontological" afterward to a necessary "idea." It is described 
in a way to show that the principle at the basis of it and of the prob- 
lem of the divine existence is in reality what I should call aetiological. 
This view of it I conceive to represent the true conception of the 
Cartesian position and also the correct way to regard the problem, as 
well as the form of all discussion of reality, not merely the problem of 
the existence of God, but also that of matter and all other real or sup- 
posed substance. The real and primary trouble with the problem as 
it was conceived by Kant, and by many other doubters and believers 
alike, was the system of dualism which would not permit the appli- 
cation of causality without distinguishing between that which ac- 
counted for physical " phenomena" and that which was necessary to 
explain mental facts, or between that which justified the belief in the 
existence of matter and that which would give something else sover- 
eignty over nature. To have conceived the problem of the existence 
of God and that of matter as the same would have put the problem on 
a better foundation and to have relieved it of its exposure to the real 
or imaginary difficulties involved in scepticism generally, even though 
the solution of the problem was not any more apparent than it vs^as be- 
fore such an analysis or conception of it was suggested. 

The main criticism, however, which can be directed against Kant's 
treatment of the problem is the fact that he has failed to recognize two 
distinct questions in it. The first is the synthetic nature of the argu- 
ment, if I may call it such, and the second is the distinction between 
the legitimacy of various methods of argument and the actual success 
or failure of their application. By the first of these considerations I 



524 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

mean that Kant failed to properly analyze the conception of God in its 
relation to the methods of argument affecting different "moments" in it. 
He did recognize that the conception of God stood for more than a single 
predicate or characteristic, but in applying the various arguments for 
the proof of his existence he failed to note that they were not applica- 
ble one and all separately to the same particular result. He criticised 
the " ontological " argument as if it were sufficient to prove the whole 
case, if it were legitimate at all. It was the same with the cosmolog- 
ical and teleological arguments. He assumed that they should prove 
everything or nothing. But I must maintain that they have not been 
fairly treated. The cosmological argument, if legitimate, is adapted 
only to the idea of the bare Absolute, and not to intelligence or moral 
qualities. The teleological argument will not prove an Absolute, but 
nothing more than intelligence and morality, if the data are present for 
its successful application. I grant that their weakness, as apparent to 
the ordinary man, lies in not being sufficient to prove the whole case 
alone. Nor do I mean to imply by this that, if they have any legit- 
imacy at all, they can in combination effect this end. While I grant 
that they have a value as methods and would have a different signifi- 
cance if they covild severally support distinct aspects of the conception 
before us, and thus effect a combination that might be useful to philo- 
sophical reflection, there are conditions necessar}' to make them suc- 
cessful which are dependent upon more important considerations than 
mere legitimacy of method. 

What I mean by this last remark can be explained only by an analy- 
sis of the conception of God, as it has been employed for many cen- 
turies. This I shall express by the characteristics of causality^ intel- 
lig-efzce, a7zd morality. Whether they are correctly attributable to 
such a being is not now the question, but whether they do or do not 
constitute the historical conception with which we are dealing. Kant 
was aware of its complexity and recognized that the idea stood for both 
an " e7zs realtssimii/n" and a " highest intelligence." But he made 
no effort to relate these characteristics to different methods of proof. 
Moreover he had to do his thinking in an atmosphere which, on one 
side, ^vas saturated with the monism of Spinoza and, on the other, with 
the dualism of Descartes. Kant never appreciated the monism of the 
one and could not accept the dualism of the other. The arguments 
and conceptions that were adapted to the dualistic views and needs of 
Christianity had tried to find an adjustment to the physical monism of 
Spinoza, which had been the result of that scientific movement begun 
with the indestructibilitv of matter and motion. In this monistic con- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 5^5 

ception and situation the idea of God had to share in that of matter and 
spirit combined or be reduced to that of matter alone in some sense 
of the term, and hence to represent in either case an absokxte substance 
whose modes were its own evokition and not independent realities in 
some other center of action, even though created by this absolute. 
Kant, however, was too much infected with the pluralistic view of 
things as represented by Leibnitz to see clearly where the difficulty 
arose and too much impressed with the strength of the mechanical view 
of nature to escape these difficulties, and hence his trouble with the 
cosmological argument. Besides the place which the conception of a 
" necessary being " occupied in Kant's discussion of the problem, as 
well as his infatuation for " necessary " and " a priori'''' truths, shows 
how he was infected with the Spinozistic conception which had be- 
come w^holly divested of the facts and assumptions which had origi- 
nally given rise to it, namely, the phenomenal universe and its demand 
for a causal ground. The " necessity " for believing in this ground, as 
determined by the assumption of its phenomenal nature, came to be 
applied to its temporal and " phenomenal " origin rather than to the 
obligation to suppose it as the complement of a "phenomenal" order. 
The only " necessity" in the case is epistemological, not metaphysical, 
as that has often been conceived, and hence is wholly conditioned upon 
the assumption of " phenomena" that imply it but do not determine it. 
But at the time of Kant philosophy had lost the conception of " nature " 
which necessitated the notion of a Creator and it was of course quite 
natural to raise the question of his existence. The new position of 
science divided the eternal between matter and spirit with no evidence 
of the latter, and left no room for the unity which the philosophic 
mind demanded, except in materialism, and the consequence was that 
Kant had to choose between the persistence of force and a reality which 
could claim nothing but " ontological " evidence in lieu of the letio- 
logical which fell to matter. 

I shall not go into any minute historical criticism to establish this 
point against Kant. I intend to content myself with the general ob- 
servation that the conception of this transition period was not qualified 
to represent rightly the problem which the question regarding the ex- 
istence of God presents. It was burdened with a heritage which had 
not made itself clear in its relation to the new scientific movement. It 
was the traditional conception of cosmic views that were associated 
with a theory of creation and that appeared irretrievably shattered by 
the indestructibility of matter and motion, that originated the perplexi- 
ties felt. Dualism still persisted after the excuse for its existence had 



526 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

been removed, and the conception of God seemed to be as superfluous 
as the Epicurean divinities in the ititermundia . Kant's perplexity in 
this situation was certainly pardonable. But I think that we shall 
wholly miss the proper point of view in the question if we either accept 
his statement of it or treat his view as anything more than the confusion 
of a transitional stage, a period infected with the antithesis between mat- 
ter and spirit and the contradictions of a providential scheme which 
made the cosmos divine while it repudiated matter as a moral contami- 
nation, a blotch on the otherwise fair features of existence. Having 
accepted the deus ex machhia theism of Aristotle which allowed for 
the self -evolution of a material system once created, the theistic doc- 
trine was now face to face with a material and mechanical order that 
had finally dispensed with the need of a specific creation by means of 
the persistence of matter and motion and the existence of a whole sys- 
tem of internal " forces," a position that forced either the abandon- 
ment or the reconstruction of the conception of the divine. The 
Aristotelian first cause seemed no longer necessary as the prius in a 
finite series of regressus or events, and speculation was left with an 
inert eternal in matter and motion to struggle with the problem of evo- 
lution and change as best it could. Science did not know \vhat it had 
to meet in this relation between inertia and change and philosophy 
was reluctant to put its finger on a creatio continua doctrine because 
it was frightened at the bugbear of Pantheism. Hence Kant and plii- 
losophy were confronted with that condition which made the existence 
of an extra-material cause unnecessary for the initiation of a series that 
never began, and as they did not feel sufiiciently the significance of the 
fact of change they were not disposed, because of the traditional con- 
ceptions of transcendental reality, to place the initiation i7i the system 
with which it was dealing, since the immemorial doctrine of inertia 
stood in the way with all the force of both an axiom and a tradition. 
The Aristotelian and scholastic doctrines required only 2ijirst cause, 
a prime mover of a system that needed no further regulation or inter- 
ference after its creation or disposition, but the final success of material- 
ism made it necessary either to abandon all hope of the divine or to find 
it immanent in the system. Finding the divine, as prevalently conceived 
to be unnecessary, Kant had to make it a " thing in itself " and place 
it, like the Epicurean gods outside the material system, in order to 
avoid denying it altogether. It did not occur to him that he could re- 
construct the problem so that its first motive would not be the cos- 
mological conception and its first argument the " ontological," but a 
principle which would account for the constafzcy of change, not the 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 527 

primordial initiation of a system which was abandoned to an inertia 
actually incompatible with evolution. 

This last remark indicates the point of view from which the prob- 
lem has to be considered. It is the modern conception of evolution 
and change which are perpetual, not occasional, and the still more im- 
portant conception of uniting the causes of " phenomena " in the same 
subject or same kind of subject, that predetermines the manner of dis- 
cussing the existence of God. The place of cosmological conceptions 
in this scheme will be considered again, but it must be remarked here 
that they take a secondary and not the primary place in it. 

I have said that the conception of God represents the ideas of 
cause, of intelligence and of morality s the basis of cosmic action, 
and the question next is whether the" . are adequate reasons for sup- 
posing any such agency responsible^ for the order which we observe. 
But I can neither give a direct ans^ver to this question nor enter upon 
its discussion until I know whether I am asked to prove or deny some- 
thing else than a supersensible physical reality. The crux of all diffi- 
culties in this perplexing problem is not in the conceptions which I 
have said define the idea of God for us, but it is the far more impor- 
tant question of their relation to the body of scientific knowledge in 
our possession. This was a question which hardly had any existence 
in early Christian thought owing to that imperfect know^ledge of 
" nature " which still left so large a field to possible miracle or irreg- 
ularity, and the generally accepted dualism of the time. As long as 
the material universe, sensible and supersensible, was regarded as an 
absolutely created thing, the conception of God added, as necessary to 
it, the notion of immateriality to those which I have mentioned, and 
hence the evidence for God's existence w^ould have to be found in 
considerations which implied his distinction from the universe as well 
as displaying the qualities of causality, intelligence and moral char- 
acter. The existence of some such power was necessarily implicated in 
the assumption that the cosmos was an effect, a "phenomenal" and 
obedient thing. This assumption may not have been well founded. 
With that I have nothing to do, when estimating the consequences of it 
once made. The assumption made no other argument necessary, and 
if the term " ontological " could be adapted to such a situation the 
argument by that name would be valid and conclusive still. I would 
prefer to call it etiological, as we shall observe later. But the situa- 
tion which commanded the inference or implication was completely 
altered by the return to the scientific conception of the indestructibility 
of matter without any alteration of the conception of the divine, itself 



52S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

only a necessary implication of the dcstructibility of matter. If we 
could discuss the question in terms of matter, asking whether person- 
ality might not be a function of the supersensible background which 
science assumes for its material " phenomena," the problem would 
offer fewer a priori difficulties. But the situation, as defined by the 
present condition of science and the persistence of dualistic assump- 
tions about God, requires us to suppose a material substratum for the 
cosmos that is divested of personality and in addition the assumption 
of a personal reality for whom there was supposed to be no need in 
science, but for whom we have been taught a moral need that appa- 
rently has no intimate connection with the physical order. "What 
proof is possible of such an independent being must be a matter of de- 
bate, especially as the newer views of the cosmos make that proof dif- 
ferent from that of antiquity. The absence of evidence for a causal 
relation to the origin of the cosmos and the moral demand for a teleo- 
logical meaning in the system of things would place the latter concep- 
tion at the mercy of the former, as it did in Kant, and the scientific 
requirement for causality as prior to purposive relations is too strong 
to permit the moral argument any weight in the absence of that caus- 
ality which has to be initiative. The choice thus seems to lie between 
materialism with its supposed atheism and the defense of theism on the 
ground of transcendency. Theology has not permitted any recon- 
struction by noting the tendency of sj^eculation to dematerialize 
matter, that is, refine the old conceptions until there is practically no 
distinction between " matter " and spirit as once conceived, but persists 
in making the causal intelligence, which it calls God, an agent distinct 
from all matter whatsoever, and so conceived it is impossible to make 
it intelligible or to suppose it capable of representing any causal action 
in the cosmos. When, therefore, any man is called upon to express 
his convictions about the existence of God, he is confronted with the 
assumption that this causal agent can in no case be identified with anv 
reality like matter. It is not enough to believe that there is intelligent 
causality in the cosmic system, but it is demanded that we place that 
intelligent cause outside the system which it did not create and which 
we are simultaneously told neither shows evidence of intelligence and 
morality nor requires a creative force to make its existence and action 
intelligible. This simply results in what might be called an irretriev- 
able dualism. There is no objection to a dualism of realities that show 
some reciprocity of action and relation to each other. But a dualism 
which both connects and separates distinct realities is either absurd or 
represents a paradox and mvist give exceptionally good reasons for that 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 529 

mode of speech. There could hardly be anything more than a me- 
chanical relation between two eternal and independent realities, if they 
can be gotten into relation at all, and the very theory of creation re- 
quires it to be more than mechanical. The evidence of the divine 
existence might be more apparent, if the relation were merely mechan- 
ical, but, assuming the divine as the creator of the system, the respon- 
sibility for its outcome would be greater, while the dynamic character 
of its working would more effectually conceal the motives that govern 
it, a fact which is sufficiently concealed in the mechanical system. 
But in a cosmos which found God only a disposer of its order and not 
necessarily the only agent concerned in its activity, the only argument 
that could discover his presence in it would be the teleological, and 
cosmological considerations of the scholastic type w^ould have no place 
in the evidence. That is, efficient and material causes in the system 
and supposed to dispense with the idea of a creator of anything what- 
ever, might suffice to account for all but its teleology, and the conse- 
quence would be that " nature " would have nothing divine in it but 
only outside its realm, while the unity of the system would be sacri- 
ficed to the necessity of finding the divine outside the machinery by 
which it accomplishes its purpose and reveals itself, and so would 
prevent the determination of its character by excluding from its nature 
the expression of what we actvially observe and admire without tracing 
its causality there. This is to say that the fundamental difficulty of 
the ordinary theism is that it insists so radically upon the transcen- 
dency of God in its cosmological conception of creation, while it ad- 
mits the action of " secondary " causes, that between what " nature " 
is supposed to do of herself and what is left for providence, the oppo- 
sition between matter and spirit becomes that between good and evil, 
as determined by the abstraction of the divine from the order which he 
is assumed to have made. 

In regard to this conception that the world was created by God and 
then left to itself, Lotze makes a clear statement. He says : "I will 
not urge the objection that this view provides only a limited satisfac- 
tion to our feelings ; in its scientific aspect it is unintelligible to me. 
I do not understand what is meant by the picture of God withdrawing 
from the world that he has created, and leaving it to follow its own 
course. That is intelligible in a human artificer, who leaves his work 
when it is finished and trusts for its maintenance to the universal laws 
of nature, laws which he did not make himself, and which not he, but 
another for him, maintains in operation. But in the case of God I 
cannot conceive what this cunninglv contrived creation of a self- 

34 



53° THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sustaining order of nature could be ; nor do I see what distinction 
there can be between this view and the view that God at each moment 
wills the same order, and jDrescrves it by this very identity of will. 
The immanence of God in the course of nature could not, therefore, 
be escaped from by this theory ; if nature follows mechanical laws, it 
is the divine action itself, which, as we are accustomed to sav, obeys 
those laws, but which really at each moment creates them. For they 
could not have existed prior to God as a code to which he accommo- 
dated himself ; they can only be the expression to us of the mode of 
his work." 

Having- decided that the question of the existence of God involves 
an insistence upon the condition that ultimately the causality of the 
cosmos shall be one, either as a creator of material substance or identi- 
cal with it, we come to the consideration of the three subordinate issues 
that arise and which were mentioned as implied by the term God, 
namely, causality, intelligence and morality. But the argument which 
will prove each of these characteristics is not materiallv the same. 
The process is what I shall call a synthetic one. This means that 
each predicate must be added on to the preceding one, so that the 
proof of the prior characteristic will not involve a deductive inference 
to the latter qualities. Different concrete facts are involved in the at- 
tainment of the complex result. But the primary point to be obser\"ed 
in the process is that it must not begin with the assumption of anv 
radical severance of the idea of God, in its first " moment," from that 
of the immediate background of " nature." I mean to insist upon a 
closer relation between the supersensible of Greek thought and the 
superphysical or immaterial, if you like, the supernatural, of Christian 
thought. If the argument requires it, I \vould interpose no objections 
to their absolute identification. This would not mean, however, that 
we should adopt the Greek conceptions historically understood, but 
that w^e mav eliminate the triple distinction between the sensible and 
the supersensible, between the supersensible and the superphysical, 
and betw^een the sensible and the superphysical. I shall not assume a 
priori, however, that this identification is the qutesitum with which 
we must start our inquiries, even though the necessity of it is a fact. 
The investigation is too complicated to justifv the anticipation of too 
much in our major premise. It may be that we should be justified in 
assuming that there is more in the background of " nature " than ma- 
terial reality, but the most obtrusive evidence of this view may not 
guarantee more than the simplest of predicates, and we may require 
more complicated evidence for those which give refinement and moral 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 531 

importance to what is represented by the idealized conception of God. 
Though I mean to abolish that unfortunate dualism between the super- 
sensible and the superphysical, as it has been historically conceived, I 
do not mean to eliminate the possible meaning which that dualism 
represented. All that I wish to do is to obtain a point of view by 
which the common conceptions incident to traditionally antagonistic 
schools may be brought forward and the follies of their hereditary re- 
ligious feuds exposed. The only way to do this is to show the elas- 
ticity of the conceptions which have served as competitors of the re- 
ligious idea in the past and which have appropriated its territory and 
forced it into a region where it is without the facts in the support that 
it once had. Conciliation is possible only on the condition that the 
opposition between the two schools of thought is not what it seems 
superficially. 

I have said nothing about the conception of God as a " first" cause. 
I have purposely evaded this matter in the discussion thus far because 
the primary question is whether there is any cause of " phenomena" 
at all and because the cosmological conception of the problem mis- 
apprehends its primary nature in that the idea of cause with which it 
starts is that of " phenomenal" antecedence and consequence and tries 
to get a "first" cause in this way when it is impossible. I have 
already indicated how this notion arises, when discussing the setiological 
and ontological problems (p. 37) that constitute the province of nou- 
menology. I may now refer to that discussion as forecasting the way 
in which we have to viev\r the application of causality to the problem 
of God's existence. I do not dispute the existence of a cosmological 
problem in this connection, but it is not the prior question of specula- 
tion. It arises only when we have a world of at least numerically 
different realities in interaction with each other and when we assume 
the doctrine of inertia as applied to the realities in this interaction. 
Outside these assumptions the conception of a "first "cause has no 
such claim to prior importance as that which Kant gave it. The 
existence of a subject initiating its own actions is not only prior to the 
idea of that involved in external initiation, but it does not require us 
to assume the finitude of the series of events concerned as the condi- 
tion of obtaining a cause or " first" cause. It is only when there is a 
plurality of realities of an inert type and dependent upon external 
action for the occurrence of events in the subject acted on that we get 
the idea of " phenomenal" antecedence and consequence as represent- 
ing causality. But even when the cosmological conception was ac- 
cepted as temporally necessary its value lay wholly in the real or 



532 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

apparent denial of an infinite series of j^henomena in sequential form. 
Of course, if the series is finite and causality has to be assumed the 
antecedent is not a " phenomenon," so that the whole value of the 
cosmological argument depended upon the ability to prove that the 
series was finite. But in addition to the difficulty of sustaining this 
finitude of the series, those who so strenuously urged the necessity of 
a cosmological initium for the cosmic order conceded unwittinglv one 
half of their opponent's view, and this concession w'as either that of a 
subsequent eternity of what was once created, or the self-persistence 
of what was initiated until another act of will terminated the creation 
dependent upon this will. It w^as readily granted by the theist and 
the spiritualist that when a cause once acted to initiate an event the 
subsequent events in the same series were the effect of this antecedent 
as a cause. In other words an event once in existence as an effect 
became a cause and so on indefinitely, all but the first member in the 
series representing what is known as a "mechanical" cause and 
effect, which is interpreted as not involviiig anything new in exist- 
ence as the Jirst term is supposed to do. This assumption was sup- 
ported by all those facts that are represented in the mechanical trans- 
nlission of energy and so by the doctrine of its conservation. But it 
was not true for all those aspects of the members in the series that 
embodied actual changes of actual mode, and most especially all the 
qualitative changes not materially traceable to the nature of the ante- 
cedent. But in spite of this false assumption the doctrine lived on to 
embarrass the theist the moment that any serious doubt was raised 
against the finite character of the series. What should have been done 
was to have shown that the whole case ^vas independent of the ques- 
tion whether the series w^as finite or infinite, and that there was no 
such qualitative identity and freedom from initial change in the system 
as the mechanical theory conceived it. Besides the abstraction involved 
in conceiving what the identity is throughout the series leaves nothing 
but the name of causality for describing the case without its content. 
The primary conception of causality, as has already been pointed out, 
is modal change of a subject, not the initiation of a mechanical series 
in a cosmic system of units or different centers of reference. The 
first appeal for explanation is to the subject in which an event occurs 
and we should never transcend it except for such reasons as are implied 
in the inertia of the subject in action. In fact there are only two con- 
siderations that will ever justify this transcendency, and they can be 
reduced to one. They are the incapacit}^ of the subject to explain certain 
facts and the doctrine of inertia. The former reason is nothing more 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 533 

chan what is implied by inertia, as there can be no way of proving 
foreign causality without the assumption of inertia. The existence of 
inertia defines the limits of subjective capacity and if it is made uni- 
versal all "phenomena" in a subject must seek their cause in an 
external source. If the fact external to the subject in any given case and 
considered as a cause, itself be an effect, and inertia again be assumed, 
the further cause must be transferred again to another foreign center 
of reference and so on indefinitely, as long as any given antecedent is 
conceived as an effect or " phenomenon" as well as a condition of its 
consequent. We should have an infinite progressus of events as well 
as an infinite regressus of them. Now neither a regressus nor a pro- 
gressus of events could take place, according to the doctrine of inertia, 
unless we have a system of interacting centers of reference, and even 
with these absolutely no qualitative changes in the transmission of 
energy or interaction could occur if inertia were absolute. The fact 
of change in the series shows that we have to deal with a subjective 
causality that is distinct from the cosmological conception of serial 
relations. 

It is in the conception of inertia and of nothing but a serial relation 
hetween events that the cosmological argument for the existence of 
God arises, and its capacity for giving trouble to the theistic view lies 
precisely in the difficulty of finding the beginning which the argument is 
supposed to require. Its finity would, of course, imply a cause differ- 
ent from the members of the series, but with the conception of " phe- 
nomenal " causation it was impossible to make clear this finity. Both 
the theist and the sceptic assumed that causality primarily represented 
antecedence and consequence between " phenomena," that is, both a 
distinction in time and transcendency of origin for the effect. But the 
theist maintained, and according to the historical conception of his 
theory must maintain, that the series has an absolute beginning, while 
the sceptic either denies this or finds no satisfactory evidence for its 
being a fact. It is clear that the theist's conception, in spite of the 
concession to the idea of "phenomenal causation," assumes that the 
ultimate cause of the series is non-phenomenal, while the sceptic's im- 
plies that it is phenomenal and hence that the series has no begimiing. 
But we may ask the theist why he accepts antecedence and conse- 
quence as the norm of causality when he transcends the " phenom- 
enal " for his ultimate, and the sceptic why he supposes any cause at 
all when he assumes the infinity of the series. Apparently, therefore, 
the controversy is carried on under a misunderstanding. The two 
parties have not altogether the same conception of cause throughout 



534 THE PROBLEMS OF I'HILOSOPIIY. 

the problem. They agree only in so far as they accept a phenomena] 
series of antecedents and consequents, and separate when the assump- 
tion of one that the series is finite necessitates the transphenomenal 
that may not be antecedent at all and when the assumption of the other 
would not permit any antecedent to the infinite series and hence no 
ultimate cause. The theist's assumption that his "first" cause is only 
at the beginning of the series instead of continuous or coterminous 
with it, that is, the initium of each member in it involving a change, 
exposed him to that conception of the series in all but its initial cause 
which places him at the mercy of his critic. His theism is that of 
Aristotle, if we may call Aristotle's conception by that name, since his 
first cause or prime mover merely started things which went on after- 
ward of their own momentum or forces. Consequently, to the sceptic, 
it appeared a rather a priori position to determine where and when 
the series began, and the theist has to rely upon the assumption that 
the infinite is never a sum of the finite to assure himself of any " phe- 
nomenal " beginning at all. The fact that we cannot show any defi- 
nite evidence that the beginning occurred at any specific point and that 
the " empirical " law of causality, that of " phenomenal " antecedence 
and consequence, involves the denial of any beginning, seems to elimi- 
nate the very condition on which a " first" cause is demanded, namely, 
that the series shall begin without an antecedent " phenomenon." 

The whole trouble is due to confusion in the conception of causal- 
ity. The theist starts with the admission that, in the finite series 
which he assumes, the cause is an antecedent " phenomenon " in all 
but the cause of the first member of the series where he cannot sup- 
pose it to be a " phenomenon." It may be either an antecedent, that 
is, a temporal prius, or a coexistent reality not antecedent at all. He 
thus shows that his conception of a "first" cause is quite different 
from any event in the series. Starting with a " phenomenal " concep- 
tion of cause, though it be only hypothetical, he has to end with the 
transphenomenal conception of it and makes himself independent of the 
idea of antecedent " phenomena." There is nothing logically illegiti- 
mate in this as long as the idea of causality is assumed and the finite 
nature of the series admitted to be a fact. But there is a tendency in 
the concession, for the sake of argument, that the causal agency in the 
series is not the same as at the beginning, to forget the causal agency 
necessitated by changes in the series. His opponent starts with the 
conception of " phenomenal" antecedence for cause and with the sup- 
position that the series is or may be infinite ends with a situation in 
which he can have no "first" cause as antecedent and must either 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 535 

forego all causes or accept the doctrine which contradicts the assump- 
tion with which he started, namely, that a cause must be an antecedent 
" phenomenon." Both, however, it will thus be seen, if they are to use 
the conception of cause at all, have to end with the notion that it is 
transphenomenal in its primary and most important sense. 

It will be important at this point to present some proof that the 
primary conception of causahty must be non-phenomenal. I start 
with the simple fact that the demand for a cause of any kind is created 
by the exigency that there are events or " phenomena." That is to 
say, when we recognize that a given fact is an event we seek a cause 
for it. Otherwise there is no need for inquiry. Now what is an 
event? It is a fact which has a beginning in time. The very term 
implies this. We must suppose a beginning in time for all events 
whatever, or the facts cannot be called events. It is on the ground of 
this beginning in time that we look for a cause. Now the cause must 
be either an antecedent event or something which is not an event. If 
an event is caused by an antecedent event there must be a series of 
such events more or less comprehensive. This series must be either 
finite or infinite. If the series be finite it has a beginning in time and 
the first event in it must be caused by something not an event, whether 
antecedent or coexistent with it. Otherwise the series would not be 
finite but infinite. Its finity and its caused nature, by supposition, as- 
sume that the cause is not an event, unless causality be denied for the 
first member of the series, a position dispensing with the necessity of 
causality elsewhere, and contradicting the assumption with which we 
started. But whether antecedent or coexistent it would not be an 
event. On the other hand, if the series be infinite, it has no beginning 
in time and there is neither a " first" event in the series nor an ante- 
cedent event for its cause. An infinite series cannot have an ante- 
cedent event or antecedent of any kind for its cause, but must be con- 
ditioned by something which is not an event, if it is caused at all. I 
do not require to say anything about the impossibility of an infinite 
series composed of finite units or events. This may be assumed as a 
vantage ground for discussion to prove that the series must be finite, 
and so caused by something transcending it and not an event, the same 
conclusion being true if it is infinite and causality is supposed at all. 
But we can assume for the sake of argument that an infinite series is 
possible in order to measure it against the conception of causality. 
We must remark, however, that, if we apply the category of cause to 
it, the supposition of this causality will be possible on the ground that 
it is not an event or an antecedent "phenomenon," because, as re- 



53" THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

marked above, there can be no antecedent to that which has no be- 
ginning in time. Hence the series, whether finite or infinite, cannot 
have an event for its cause. We may maintain that it has no cause, if 
^ve so wish to believe or assert. But this would be to surrender the 
rationality of all science that insists upon the recognition of cavisality. 
Its search is not exhausted with mere coexistence and sequence, though 
this has to be the first step in the ascertainment of cosmological causes. 
"The extent of the connection is the evidence of its necessity, which 
even the scientific man seeks as well as its factual character. The de- 
nial of any causality whatever other than the uniformity of coexistence 
and sequence may be correct, in sofar as w^e are at present concerned, 
but human nature is hardly constituted so as to take a course like that. 
In fact, events have no meaning unless they are interpreted or ex- 
plained by causes, whether these events be treated individuallv or col- 
lectively. A finite series of events does not differ essentially from an 
individual event, in so far as it represents a beginning in time, as tlais 
is the characteristic that brings it under explanation by causality. We 
are, therefore, not likely to escape the admission that there is a cause 
of some kind which will be more than the spontaneous origin of events 
and which will be a subject or ground of them. The only question 
that remains after that is whether that cause is ultimately an event. 
We have found that it cannot be such in either a finite or infinite series, 
and this conclusion means that the primary notion of cause is not that 
of a " first" event, nor even necessarily a " first" or temporally ante- 
cedent reality not an event, though this might be the fact, but of a 
reality, whether antecedent or coexistent with its acts, which is not 
broken up into units of time. 

I have assvuiied, as the student usually does, that an infinite series 
may be caused. But this assumption requires qualification. That 
which has no beginning in time can have no temporal or antecedent 
cause, as we have already seen, since w'e never seek for a cause except 
for that which begins in time. The advocate of cosmological infini- 
tude in the temporal series forgets that this idea contradicts his con- 
ception of cause as an antecedent " phenomenon" which is impossible 
in any such series as a w'hole and it is the whole about which he 
speaks. Otherwise he has no infinite series. His cause, if cause 
there be, must be coincident with the facts that he possesses, an im- 
manent principle inhabiting, not excluded from the "phenomena" 
that come to him for explanation. In no case can we escape the sup- 
position of an x'Vbsolute, whether we choose to regard it as noumenal 
• or " phenomenal," while anv recognition of causalitv at all will drive 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 537 

us into the noumenal. This absokite is forced upon us, because a 
finite series must be originated by that which is not an event, as a con- 
dition of being a finite series of events or effects at all, and because an 
infinite series can have no antecedent in time. This, of course, re- 
sults in the conclusion that a true primary cause is not an antecedent 
phenomenon, but a subject which, whether coincident or antecedent 
to its attributes and functional action, is the proper center of reference 
for all phenomena and their true cause, the temporal relation between 
"phenomena" being only the index of the law of action, not its 
efficient determinant. 

Another matter in this question should be remarked. It is com- 
monly conceded, where there is any serious reflection on the problem, 
that no sum of the finite can ever constitute the infinite. This is vui- 
questionably true, whenever the infinite is conceived as qualitatively 
different from the finite. We can have no denomination in the sum 
which is not in the units or parts. It is quite possible that the same 
will hold true when the difference is supposed to be only quantitative. 
Assuming the fact in either case, we should have definite proof that the 
cosmological series is finite and that it is impossible to conceive it as 
infinite. With this result Kant's antinomy would be an illusion. But 
it is not necessary to push a difliculty here in the form that the sum of 
the finite can never produce the infinite, as the thought can be best 
expressed by showing that the talk of an infinite series confuses the dis- 
tinct notions of infinite time and infinite number. Infinite time is 
homogeneous and continuous, and so without beginning. Infinite 
number represents the heterogeneous and the discrete, or c^uantities as 
vmits. A series of events, \vhether finite or infinite, represents two 
things, the time element and the number element. When it is con- 
ceived as finite both the collective series and the individual members 
represent a beginning in time. But in the so-called infinite series, the 
collective whole has no beginning, while each member has a beginning. 
In the former case we can suppose both to be temjDorally caused ; in 
the latter the whole has no antecedent cause, while all the individual 
members conceivably have an antecedent cause and admittedly have a 
coexistent cause, if cause at all, and if not caused by an antecedent. It 
is thus the time element that is infinite and not caused while the fact 
of change always calls for it, no matter how we conceive the series. 

Having shown that the " first" cause is always transphenomenal, 
it is incvuubent upon me to ask why it is so universal to regard caus- 
ality as necessarily implying antecedence and consequence. The an- 
swer to this question is that this conception is the only form in wdiich 



53S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

it can ever present sensible evidence of a relation implying the differ- 
ence of some kind which is necessary in the idea of cause and effect, 
though it may not be one of time and space. There would be no way 
of distinguishing between cause and effect concretely if it were not for 
the fact that, in a cosmological system, the distinction between centers 
of reference and between their actions and reactions on each other co- 
incided with the idea of cause and effect sufficiently to make phenom- 
enal relations in time an index of a fact which is not necessarily con- 
stituted by antecedence and consequence at all. In the interaction 
between two subjects, say the impact of two balls, we ascribe the 
cavisal act to the moving subject whose action is perceptibly antecedent 
to the motion in the subject acted on. The antecedent subject is the 
cause and it is distinct from the subject acted on in space, while the 
motion in one is antecedent in time to that of the other. Hence the 
evidence of what the cause is must be found in antecedence of the 
action of the impelling subject with the assumption of inertia in the 
affected subject. But, in fact, the causal action does not involve ante- 
cedence at all. The efficiency occurs coexistently with the effect in the 
subject acted on. But if it were not for the assumption of inertia and 
the time relation of phenomena uniformly associated the cause could 
always be placed in the subject affected as well as in the subject sup- 
posed to influence the result. However, the cause in any case is a 
subject acting and the events indicating it are, in a cosmological 
system, antecedent and consequent. Moreover, in the communication 
of knowledge regarding causes it is necessary to have experiential 
data for making intelligible the causal relation implying a distinction 
not clearly evident in the unity of time and space, and the only condi- 
tion under which " empirical" evidence of such a relation can appear 
is in the fact of phenomenal antecedence and consequence. This will 
demand an independence of the subjects even though the moment in 
which the actual causal agency produces its effect represents a coinci- 
dence as that between subject and function. This is only to say that 
the ratio cognoscendi^ not the ratio essefzdi, of causality is phenome- 
nal antecedence and consequence associated with the assumption of 
inertia. On any other view of the case it will not apply. Hence we 
must always expect the representative formula for causality to take the 
" empirical" form and to expose us to the cosmological illusion, un- 
less we can free ourselves from it by proper reflection. 

Assuming then the transphenomenal nature of causality in its first 
powder and its ultimate independence of antecedence and consequence 
in time, we are prepared to apply the conception to the problem of the 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 539 

existence of God. I shall have a threefold argument which I shall 
distinguish by the {Etiological, the ontological, and teleological. What 
I have called the ontological is distinct from the old one by that name 
and is determined by the significance of that term in the classification 
of the sciences. But in the application of these methods I must em- 
phasize two very important considerations. The first is that they do 
not severally or distinctly illustrate or prove the same thing. The 
£etiological argument will prove nothing more than the fact of an Abso- 
lute and this without regard to the question whether it is plural or singu- 
lar, matter or spirit. No characteristics but its causal function or com- 
plimentary relation to " phenomena " can be established by this method. 
The ontological argument is designed to determine its unity and its 
nature. The teleological argument is a sort of coinbined aetiological and 
ontological process, though applicable only to cosmological relations 
for determining the conjunction of intelligence and moral purpose in 
connection with efficient causality. The second consideration is that the 
argument shall be conducted on the assumption that there can be and 
ought to be a reconciliation between the Greek svipersensible and the 
Christian superphysical realities. Such an assumption will not readily 
commend itself to minds bred in the dualism which has possessed 
civilization for so many centuries and which has embodied itself in the 
more or less petrified antithesis between religion and science, or God 
and nature. But whether it commends itself or not, I am convinced 
that there is no salvation for the religious sentiment in any other re- 
source. The antagonisms that have been cultivated between the poetic 
and the scientific views of the cosmos have defined themselves so 
clearly and worked out their embodiment in language with such stub- 
born and consistently conflicting ideas and associations, that the revo- 
lution must be great which will bring them into harmony. Neverthe- 
less I am firmly convinced that, unless philosophy can succeed in 
uniting divorced tendencies in a way to preserve the best elements of 
both, there can be nothing but a wasteful controversy between truth and 
beauty, between a passionless study of nature and a sentimental wor- 
ship of the unreal. The antagonism was rational enough in the last 
days of Greece and Rome with the rise of Christianity w^hen material- 
ism -was sensuous and immoral and the religious consciousness was 
endeavoring to revive the "spiritual " ideals of Plato and Judaism. It 
was also excusable as long as the assumption prevailed that the whole 
cosmos, sensible and supersensible, was ephemeral, so that the spirit- 
ual had to be sought in the immaterial. But after science has discov- 
ered a whole infinite universe of supersensible forces and reduced the 



54^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sensible cosmos to an insignificant affair, while its conception of mat- 
ter can hardly be distinguished from spirit, and when ethics has meas- 
urably triumphed over the purely sensuous life, there is less reason, 
and perhaps none at all, for persisting in holding the conce20tion of 
God, so far apart from our extremely etherealized ideas of matter, 
especially that the progress of knowledge forces more and more upon 
our convictions the essential unity of things which was not so apparent 
to antiquity as to us, though it was as firmlv believed. In the atomic 
doctrine of the ancients there was, of course, little to make the unity 
of the cosmos intelligible, and it was the demand for this unity and in- 
telligibility that led to the postulation of the divine being to account 
for facts not naturally traceable in the action of the elements. But in 
modern times we have very much simplified the atomic theory by re- 
ducing the elements to a finite number, some seventy or more, and b^■ 
the discovery that possibly these are reducible to one form of energv. 
The ancient doctrine had no means to account for their composition 
but a mechanical system, while the multiplicity of the elements allowed 
for any number of combinations suitable to cjualitative differences in 
the compounds. But the modern theory not only assumes qualitative 
differences in the atoms, except a recent view, and owing to their 
limited number has to endow them with internal forces that take the 
purely mechanical conception of composition out of the field of ex- 
planation or limits its application. But the tendency to either accept 
the ether as the ultimate form of energy, or to reduce all atomic ele- 
ments to one form of reality far more supersensible than the Greeks' 
conception of non-sensible matter, provides in the field of natural 
science that unity of regvilative agency in the cosmos which monothe- 
ism afforded wdien reducing the polvtheistic stage of reflection to 
order, and consequently, with the laAV of parsimony operative on 
human thought, brings everv conception of God that is dualistically 
transcendental into dangerous competition with that unity of forces 
which offers so attractive a solution to the problem of cosmic com- 
plexities having no superficial evidences of personality at its basis. The 
choice in such a situation must be between the abandonment of the 
divine and its unification with cosmic energv. 

This position is reinforced by the very important consideration that 
the conception of matter has become so elastic and refined that it is 
impossible to distinguish it from the ancient conception of spirit. I 
have already called attention to this fact w^hen discussing spiritualism, 
and the fact must come up here again for further remark. If we 
limited the term " matter" entirely to the sensible world, to what we 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 541 

actually see and touch, with the limited capacities represented by the 
properties so manifested, we should find it necessary, like the old 
Greeks in the first stages of their reflection, to call the supersensible 
reality " ether," as a means of distinguishing the finer elements of 
nature from the coarser. It was a long time before Greco-Roman 
thought could bring itself finally to regard even the air as matter. 
Students of philosophy will recall the elaborate arguments of Lucretius 
to prove that the air is matter and not some form of ethereal substance. 
But even the materialists did not venture upon such a conclusion until 
they had already become familiar with the conception of supersensible 
matter quite as refined as the abounding "ether" and probably dis- 
tinguished from it only by its tendency to gravity. The " ether," how- 
ever, was soon abandoned after all reality was reduced to matter and 
the void, and all supersensible reality classified also with matter. The 
monistic tendency was too strong to tolerate a multiplicity of elements 
qualitatively different from each other. The reduction of the air and 
all supersensible or ethereal reality to matter, whether of the atomic or 
non-atomic form, was a unification of multiple forces, even though it 
was obtained by an extension of the meaning of the term "matter" 
w^here it was supposed that we were exorcising spirit while in fact we 
w^ere but refining niatter to include it. This movement of Greek 
thought was not conscious of itself except in Plato where the philo- 
sophic and the poetic instinct joined hands to take an ethereal flight on 
the wings of fancy and hope. Plato w^as quite willing to limit the 
conception of "matter" to the sensible and the ephemeral world, but 
a consideration which must always operate with the human mind 
prompted later philosophers to the extension of the term " matter" to 
cover all the facts of human experience. This was the instinct for 
unity together with the habit of naming a reality in terms of what it is 
supposed to do rather than in terms of what we imagine is desirable. 
I have already called attention to the fact that ultimately we know the 
"nature" of a thing by what it does, and that terms denoting sub- 
stance will always be chosen to name the background of phenomena 
even though the reality so named has to be distinguished by antithesis 
with its effect. The moment that the sensible world, which the nai've 
understanding had taken for a fixed substance, became a mere " phe- 
nomenon," the modal appearance of a supersensible reality, it had to 
be conceived as too closely related to its cause to receive any other 
name for it than the current name, and hence " matter" from being a 
sensible fact alone came to be a name for the supersensible condition 
of a reality that could at any time manifest itself to the senses. We at 



542 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

first name a thing for what it zV, and when we discover that we either 
do not know what it is at all, or know what it is only in what it does^ 
we still continue to name it as before, though the new position involves 
an antithesis in conception of that which it was at first. In becoming 
thus generalized the term "matter" is exceedingly equivocal, now 
identical with what we see and feel and now identical with what can 
be neither seen nor felt, a term equally adapted to matter or spirit. 
Before this conception obtained a footing there was but one thing to 
know and name, and this was the sensible world. But the discovery 
that there was a "phenomenal" world attached, if that conception is 
permissible, to some unchangeable reality, led to that double-faced 
unity which gave the same name to both aspects of it while their 
natures were conceived more or less in an antithesis. Plato saw this 
clearly when he endeavored to apply the notion of " matter" to the 
sensible world and that of " idea " to the supersensible world, while 
the materialists adopted "matter" for the supersensible without any 
consciousness of the change of conceptions involved in their action. 

It was impossible thus to generalize the term without one of two 
consequences, either the w^eakening of the evidences for the immaterial 
or the association of the mechanical idea with the supersensible. In 
this wider generalization of the term it must represent that generic 
meaning which covers the qualities of both a sensible and a supersen- 
sible reality, with all the abstraction that this involves, as it must apply 
to facts conceived in an antithesis. If applied only to the supersen- 
sible, it may be less confusing but none the less distinguished from the 
sensible world. In either of them it takes on all the negative coloring 
that would be expected from a conception that opposed what had 
passed for gross matter, even though the associations and implications 
of the latter have not been wholly escaped. It \vas a misfortune for 
human thought that this refined conception of " matter " was lost in the 
conflict which perpetuated the hostility between materialism and spirit- 
ualism ; for there is the possibilitv of conciliation as long as the mys- 
terious plasticity and power of " matter " approaches all the ethereal 
images of the divine, which are hardly more negative in relation to 
sensible matter than is the supersensible of materialism. It was only 
the coldly mechanical view of things which still clung to this concep- 
tion of matter after it had been etherealized that drove the human mind 
into the immaterial as a resource for a personal view of reality at the 
basis of things for the sustentation of its hopes and ideals that it 
thought inconsistent with " nature," and it has persistently held to that 
policy amid every change in the conception of "matter" and all evi- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 543 

dence of a unity of things not easily discoverable in dualism. But 
there has been no sufficient reason for this persistence after the enemy 
had conceded half the field of philosophy to the claims that placed the 
foundation of things beyond the reach of sense. 

It is not necessary to rehearse at length the motives that prevented 
the unification of Greek and Christian conceptions after the discovery 
of the indestructibility of matter and motion. They are all summa- 
rized in the petrifaction of religious ideas into abstract and anthropo- 
morphic formulas which permitted no such elasticity of conception and 
nature as the propositions of physical science. Ancient thought could 
most easily have made concessions from the side of religion because 
there was so much mystery left in "nature," after all the unity which 
philosophy had given it, that men should still resort to the supersen- 
sible as they resorted to the superphysical for viltimate explanation. 

Das Wukder ist des Glaubexs liebstes Kind. 

"Miracles are faith's favorite child." The idea of the mechanical 
seemed to have its limitations, as clearly shown in the slow death of 
the belief that the stars were divine. But modern science, while it has 
still more refined the conception of matter than the Greeks did, even 
to the extent of describing the ether in its terms, has, under the aegis 
of Copernican astronomy, Newtonian gravitation, and Darwinian evo- 
lution, reduced the totality of existence to such a mechanical concep- 
tion, two of them doing for space what the third does for time, that 
the concessions wdiich may be made to the ideas of the immaterial still 
remain free from the evidence of intelligent purpose which is so essen- 
tial and insistent in the conception of God. In spite of its representa- 
tion of God as unchangeable and incomprehensible religion has never 
been properly willing to admit the idea of mechanical action into its 
conception of the divine and consequently it has always been fright- 
ened at the uniformity of nature as if its life depended on mystery in- 
stead of faith and confidence in the cosmic order. All that it needs to 
learn is that intelligence is quite as compatible with the background 
of the " phenomenal " world as it is with materially organized beino-s, 
and having seen this, to adjust its ethical life to the present situation and 
leave the outcome to the future. It is clear that the amazing discov- 
eries of recent science and metaphysical speculations in the field of 
physical science in regard to the properties of " matter," the con- 
sciousness that the theories of it must be revised and modified, and the 
hypothesis of ether with properties as far beyond those of ordinary 
"matter" as any theological "spirit" could be, are considerations 



544 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

that leave only one thing for poetry and religion to do, and this is to 
emancipate themselves from the associations that haunt mechanical 
formulas and seriously ask w^hether all this supersensuous background 
of the universe, with its display of forces, almost as different from the 
simplest conception of the mechanical as an orderly purpose, might not 
be qualified by functions that merely conceal intelligence of a very 
comprehensive type behind the mask of mechanism. The ether with- 
out any of the positive properties that define " matter " as we know it, 
except extension, might be the receptacle of processes that unite teleo- 
logical with etiological tendencies. All that is required is to show 
that there is nothing to prevent the possibility that the ether is con- 
scious. The omnipresence of gravitation and electro-magnetic forces 
with any number of unknown agencies in the cosmos make this quite 
as possible as any that we know more clearl}-. We might remember 
too in our laudation of the Kantian philosophy that his agnosticism 
was as much directed toward our ignorance of what might be as well 
as what might not be, and hence that Kant insisted as inuch on the 
possibility of an intelligent basis for the universe as he did for the de- 
fect of evidence. Whatever limitations we ascribe to grosser matter 
in this respect, and materialism cannot exclude the capacity of intelli- 
gence from some of its forms, we should have less reason for exclud- 
ing it from the ether than from "dead" matter, if its properties, or 
capacities, like spirit, are to be described as immaterial. The ques- 
tion of its relation to space is irrelevant. The repugnance to making 
the spiritual extended is a consequence of the illusions of idealism 
which gets away from dualism only by making consciousness a func- 
tion of " matter" and then disavowing materialism while it adopted a 
doctrine which could not be distinguished from it. Idealism has been 
the heir to the antagonism between materialism and spiritualism, and 
has developed it to that degree of logical completeness which prevents 
all sanity of thought independentl}' of a return to the unity of matter 
and spirit, which perhaps it often intends but expects to accomplish 
only by making spirit spaceless, or by making both matter and spirit 
spaceless. Nothing but the retention of the dualistic conceptions of 
Cartesianism after that svstem has been abandoned induces philoso- 
phers to insist that spirit must be unextended. This superstition once 
eradicated we may hope to find some unity in things compatible with 
what we know of matter. 

Wer sie nicht kennte Who does not know 

Die Elemente, The elements, 

Ihre Kraft Their power 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 545 

Und Eigenschaft, And properties, 

Ware kein Meister Is no master 

Ueber die Geister. Over spirits. 

Assuming the possibility and the propriety of demanding a return 
to conceptions which offer a hope of uniting hereditary enemies, of 
divesting the prejudices against matter of their sting by insisting that 
it has long since lost all connotation that justifies any fear of it, and 
of bringing the immaterial into close enough juxtaposition with the 
material to make its existence useful and effective, if provable, we 
may take up the several arguments that affect the problem of a spiritual 
reality that has been embodied in the name of God, whether we regard 
it as a substance at the basis of " matter" or as a function of such as 
we do recognize at the basis of cosmic action. I repeat that I refuse to 
start with any necessity for supposing it either material or immaterial 
as a condition of making the argument effective. It is the usual 
assumption, whether the argument be for or against the existence of 
God, that, if he exists at all, he must be immaterial. I shall neither 
assume nor deny this conception to start with. The first question 
after determining that of causality or a ground for " phenomena," is 
whether there is evidence of intelligence and then the further question 
may or may not arise as to the nature of the substratum that displays 
it, this having been immaterial only in response to the assumption 
about the origin of matter both sensible and supersensible. I am 
aware of the presumption against identifying conceptions so mutually 
exclusive in both popular and philosophic parlance, and it is not my 
purpose to insist that we can either call matter God, or God matter, 
with entire impunity. These opposing conceptions with all their 
ramifications and associations in connection with the antagonisms 
of science and religion, fact and poetry, nature and art, philosophy 
and common sense, realism and idealism, coincident with the distinc- 
tion between intellectual and emotional temperaments, mark off natural 
and artificial antipathies that are of too long standing and of too> 
coherent a character to yield to the first touch of revolutionary change 
which may take as many centuries to dissolve as it took to form the 
antithesis. But the philosopher does not depend on an immediate 
pacification of the plebs in the enunciation of his doctrine, even though 
he condemns the fatuity and blindness of a policy which treats " nature '* 
as the work of God and will nevertheless not concede that it is an ex- 
pression of his character. Time is on the side of the philosopher if 
only he declares the truth. He can at least call attention to the possi- 
bility of conciliation and state the terms on which it can be effected, 

35 



546 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and then leave the result to the slow process of evolution. The idealist 
must concede the reconciliation of the supersensible of science and the 
immaterial of religion, as his fundamental distinction is between the 
sensible and the supersensible, always being chary of any supernatural 
that is more than the background of the sensible order, or reflecting 
in that its truth, its beauty and its goodness. The argument, there- 
fore, which ^vill rescue what is imperishable in the religious conscious- 
ness must proceed upon the assumption that whatever we choose to 
call the divine must represent some unification with ^vhat passes as 
" nature," though the synthetic character of the argument may finally 
take us beyond the purely mechanical view of that order. 

The yEtiological Ai'gu7}ient . — This argument is merely that of 
finding a cause for facts which do not exj^lain themselves and which 
imperativelv demand explanation. I have already indicated what place 
it has in determining the noumenological problem which is the first 
step in the solution of the present question. It is not necessary to 
repeat here the more fundamental and elementary uses of the principle, 
as I can suppose this to have been accepted at this stage of the discus- 
sion. Nor am I concerned at present with the question whether such 
a cause or ground is one or many. I am dealing only with the con- 
dition which prompts to the supposition of any cause at all. This is 
preliminary to the search for its nature, single or plural, material or 
spiritual. If the phenomena are so connected or related as to pre- 
determine the unity of the cause the etiological method will applv to 
them. But the first thing to recognize is the fact that phenomena 
demand a cause and that the primary conception of a cause is that of a 
subject or substance, not an antecedent " phenomenon." We may call 
this the noumenological point of view in contrast ^vith the cosmo- 
logical which endeavors to look at the problem from the standpoint of 
a series of phenomena mechanically initiated. This position, as I have 
already shown, I mean to treat as secondarv, as it is not adapted to the 
explanation of change. But it is the noumenological conception of 
cause as distinct from the cosmological that has importance here. It 
represents the necessity of some reality other than " phenomena " at 
the basis of things. Its application may not take us bevond the atomic 
theory which is a form of pluralism, or beyond a uno-monistic theory 
of reality of a material sort, but it assumes or proves that events must 
have a cause or center of reference other than themselves, subjects of 
which the events are functions, modes or attributes. The onlv remain- 
ing question is whether the individual subjects thus supposed in the 
pluralistic view are independent of each other or are themselves defi- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 547 

nitely related astiologically to a unitary reality transcending them. The 
ontological argument must answer this question. But the aetiological 
problem is the first to be solved. 

The noumenological result in an implicate or correlate of the fact 
of change ; the cosmological a correlate of the doctrine of inertia in 
combination with the fact of change and a pluralistic system of inter- 
acting realities. Man insists on accounting for change. He may do 
this in two ways. He may suppose it the effect of the subject in which 
the " phenomenon " occurs, or he may suppose it the effect of an object 
on the subject in which the event takes place. In any case the subject 
of the event is taken for granted. This is primary and the relation of 
events in antecedence and consequence is secondary and does not rep- 
resent the actual causal agent. The existence of God or of any back- 
ground to " nature," either as the evolutionary process of a single sub- 
stantive reality or as a pluralistic system of atoms having a further than 
a cosmological unity, is involved in this primary fact. Now this is 
actually granted in the very conception of matter or ether. They are 
both substrata for the explanation or reference of certain phenomena 
as modes of existence. Either of them will stand for an Absolute as 
long as no evidence is discoverable for their relation or dependence 
upon a more ultimate reality, and this is all that any system of expla- 
nation requires. But of this in the ontological argument, since matter 
is a generalized concept derived from a cosmological system of at least 
relatively independent and permanent centers of reference, and the 
ether is as yet an indeterminate reality required only by the limitations 
of matter as known, or as the ultimate source of matter. We are now 
dealing with the conditions of change or of causes of events prior to 
the question of their ontological unity. This primary condition is a 
reality of which events are actions. Sometimes it is characterized as 
the permanent substratum which makes it possible for us to conceive 
change. But I do not assert or assume the necessity of any eternal 
basis for phenomena, as this term necessity is a misleading one, and as 
the only proper import of the term is the inevitableness of an event 
that is caused, not the inevitableness of its cause. We may be neces- 
sitated to believe the existence of a cause while the cause may not be 
necessitated. Hence I am not at present concerned with any nature of 
a substance, but only with its causal relation to its modes, and this 
seems to be demanded instinctively by the fact or assumption that 
change does not account for itself. Whatever the initium assigned to 
any fact or phenomenon, whether a cosmological series or not, it is 
always concerned as taking place in a subject and as having its char- 



54^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

acter determined by that subject. An Absolute of some kind is thus 
necessarily given in the very conception of the facts of experience, or 
if not given in them is necessarily implied by them. The Absolute, 
however, as a substance, is a very meager substitute for the conception 
of God, as that is defined and understood, though that much has first 
to be gained as a condition of obtaining more. The existence of one 
or many absolutes is given with the fact of the relative and the number 
of them will be determined wholly by the number of relatives not con- 
nected in a way to suggest unity. A system of interrelated relatives 
will suggest a single Absolute, while a system of independent relatives 
must suggest plural absolutes. In either case, however, we have a 
substantive background for " phenomena" while pluralism can hardly 
be conceived as a rational system without a bond of connection to give 
it the name of a system at all, and this inevitably leads toward a unity 
at the basis of any and all systems that are not a chaos, even though 
that unity be nothing more than teleological. 

But the point at which the conception of the Absolute begins to 
coincide with the idea of God is that where the question of its initi- 
ating agency arises. The conception of God, as defined for us by 
history, is, of course, much more than that of an Absolute, though it 
includes it. The Absolute might be nothing more than a static reality 
without the power to be more than a passive subject of its attributes, a 
dead inactive thing. But the conception of God stands for at least two 
functions which must be found in the Absolute as a condition of giving 
it philosophic and religious power. They are the capacity for initi- 
ating change and the exhibition of intelligent action. The first of 
these is an aetiological and the second a teleological problem. 

The j^lace which any initiating agency shall have in the world will 
depend upon the compass and limitations of inertia. It is perfectly 
possible to imagine a completely dead and changeless universe. The 
apparently barren and unchanging condition of the earth's satellite is a 
good illustration of what is quite possible in the whole cosmic system. 
The doctrine of inertia seems to require the constancy and stability of 
any condition in which reality mav be found at any moment of its 
existence. But what we find in fact is a perpetual variation from anv 
such fixity, and the question is raised at once in regard to the limits of 
inertia in explaining the facts, or at least as dispensing with causal 
agency. Ancient materialism, especially in Epicurus, saw clearly 
enough that it could not get along with the absoluteness of inertia, and 
implanted spontaneit}' or free will in the very atoms as an initiating 
agency in cosmic collocations. A self-active principle seemed abso- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 549 

lutely indispensable to it to make any progress at all in explaining, 
and there seemed no offence for reason to put this in matter as an en- 
dowment quite compatible with its other functions and properties. It 
was only when the human mind insisted on defining matter by inertia 
as one or as the most essential of its properties, if property it is, and 
on distinguishing it radically from spirit which was endowed with 
self-activity, that spontaneity was excluded from the atom, and abso- 
lute inertia took its place in matter. Under this conception no change 
from any given conditions, whether of motion or rest, was possible 
from within. If change occurred as a fact it was traced to foreign 
initiative, and any motion once instigated was supposed by the doc- 
trine of inertia to remain as it was started, and its variation in direc- 
tion or the cessation of it was referable to a similar cause. In this 
way the cosmological argument for an absolute beginning of a series 
arose, and neglected the consideration of the changes that were con- 
tained within the series. 

Now it is apparent that the universality or absoluteness of inertia 
breaks down with the fact of change wherever the subject in which it 
occurs counts for a cause modifying the direction or mode of what it 
receives, and the only question after that is whether the self -activity 
supposed to explain change is to be found in matter or outside it, 
whether the Absolute is material or immaterial. Nor does it make 
any difference in which we find it, if the result actually explains our 
phenomena and opens the way to all those ideals which have sought 
in various ways to obtain a support that was supposedly not discover- 
able in dead matter. Taking inertia to mean the inability of a sub- 
ject to change its condition whether of motion or rest, and nothing 
more than this, it is apparently if not unquestionably true that all 
changes involving increase or decrease of motion must be caused from 
without, and as long as the explanation of all collocations of matter 
was made a mechanical process of motional change after the simplest 
type of that " phenomenon," the cause had to be external, and it was 
natural to find ultimate initiating causes outside matter while the amount 
of existing motion in it remained the same, this being once supposed to 
exist. But when chemical and organic action came to be considered 
and when internal changes from affinity and similar "forces" were 
recognized, inertia either had to change its import or to admit that there 
was no necessity for transcending matter for the explanation of certain 
changes, and the consequence has been that modern thought has practi- 
cally abandoned the idea that matter is " dead." I do not say that this 
is the correct tendency. That is another question. But when it has 



55 O THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

done so, it should not be so strenuous and irreconcilable when it hears 
the name of God mentioned, as it has only adopted the attributes ex- 
pressed by that term for its substratum matter. The refinement through 
which the conception of matter has passed sustains this view of indiffer- 
ence in regard to what shall be ascribed to it, and the ether comes to our 
speculative vision with such immaterial properties and with nothing 
but the laboratory methods and associations of science to prevent us 
from calling it God. But starting with the fact of change incessant 
and multiplied in every direction, as the evidence that there is some 
limitation to the law inertia, we may examine the several indications 
of the extent of that limitation. 

A mechanical system works itself out beautifully on the doctrine 
of inertia, provided you have either eternal motion to start with or a 
'•'■ priimwi mobile" to start the motion which w^ould remain indestruc- 
tible, and provided also that your one fact to be made intelligible was 
only motion with a well articulated system of media for the trans- 
mission of energy. But this assumes that there is no change in the 
direction or mode of motion which is not what we find. But how 
to get change of any kind, whether of motion or other type of 
action, is the problem. Continuous or intermittent efficiency of the 
'"'' primn7n 7nobile" would solve this question, and wdaere any dissi- 
pation or increase of energy is conceded, would seem to be a neces- 
sity, if an orderly unity is manifest in the system. Of course Epicurus 
assumed thh '■'• primum mobile" in the spontaneity of the elements, 
but when this was eliminated there w^as no escape from at least a deus 
ex mackina where change was an accepted fact. This change also 
involved a finitude of the series of phenomenal facts, a position 
assuredly granted in regard to matter by the vortex atom theory which 
virtually abandons the ultimate indestructibility of matter by assuming 
its created nature. The cosmological conception of the material system 
as having an absolute beginning seems thus to have scientific credentials 
in its support, notwithstanding the a priori inconceivabilities of Kant 
and Hamilton. But grant that the series has no beginning, the exist- 
ence of initial changes in it is assumed and must involve the same 
variations from the strict interpretation of inertia as any absolute 
beginning of the series. jNIoreover a strictly mechanical philosophy 
has to answer the question about change in the system as a \vhole. 
As a collective whole no change would ever originate in it on the 
doctrine of inertia, but it seems, from the doctrine of evolution, that 
the whole as well as the parts represents the initiation of change and 
it is hard to conceive it to exist in all the parts without supposing 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 551 

that the collective whole was involved. Assuming that the whole 
was involved it is certain that no mechanical principle will account 
for it, and this independently of any question as to the eternity of 
motion. It would be the same with the parts where any change is 
involved and the dissipation of energy admitted. The so-called 
equivalence of actual and potential energy is not relevant, as this 
depends on an equivocal import for the term energy. The only way 
that one can evade the idea of change in the supposed dissipation of 
energy is to equate the dynamic condition of it with the static or 
potential. But in fact potential energy is not energy at all. It is a 
static condition antecedent or subsequent to an active condition and 
either the static or the dynamic condition involves a change, according 
to which is the antecedent. 

But the two important points against the universality and absolute- 
ness of the doctrine of inertia as the primary characteristic of the 
Absolute are (i) the qualitative modifications of subjective activity in 
connection with the action of efficient or mechanical causes, and (2) 
apparently the behavior of radioactive substances. We have already 
seen how the qualitative changes involved in chemical action and the 
qualitative modifications of energy in its transmission through different 
media or subjects lead to a qualified interpretation of the conservation 
of force. We found that, whatever the foreign instigation of an 
effect, the nature of it was determined by the character of the subject 
in which it occurred. If any other subject than the given one were 
involved the effect would be correspondingly different. A match 
applied to a bar of iron only modifies its temperature and volume 
slightly ; applied to a powder magazine it results in much destruc- 
tion. The subject counts for as much as the object in the effect, and 
though this subject might not have acted without instigation from an 
external source the way in which it shall act is determined by its own 
nature and not the nature of the external stimulus. The chemical 
action of substances has no equivalent in the merely inechanical 
agencies which produce the proper relation between combining ele- 
ments, and this is especially to be remarked in the cessation of that 
chemical action at a given stage of its course. 

The radioactive substances like uranium and radium illustrate in 
a specially clear manner this activity against a narrow theory of 
inertia, perhaps more fully than any other material agencies, though 
it is traceable in many other forms and conditions of matter and is 
possibly a more general phenomenon of matter than is commonly 
supposed. They show the radiation of energy from them of great 



552 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

relative intensity \vith the minimum of material depreciation. No 
ordinary mechanical theory, it seems, is adequate as an explanation. 

But the most important and effective limitation of the application 
of inertia, as any intelligible mechanical idea, is found in the sponta- 
neous actions of organic and conscious life. This argument is all the 
more effective from the fact that I am not using it here to refute ma- 
terialism, but as representing a fact which the materialist must make 
consistent with his system or give it up. There is no use to define 
spontaneous and free actions as more complicated mechanical effects, 
because this view of them is purelv a priori and without one iota of 
" empirical " evidence. All the " evidence " that is produced is the 
assumption that mechanical action is universal and that alleged free 
actions " must " be of that type. I am not supposing these actions to 
be responsible, as there is a radical distinction between free and re- 
sponsible acts which has not been sufficiently recognized by philoso- 
phers. I am speaking of actions subjectively originated whether re- 
garded as responsible or not. They show no such, correlation with 
external stimuli as true mechanical actions show and should show, 
while the " complication" of which the materialist speaks only illus- 
trates those subjective modifications which he must admit in both the 
mechanical and chemical fields outside the organic world, and serves as 
a mere subterfuge for ignorance or for principles that are euphuisms 
for something anti-mechanical. ]\Ioreover there is the direct testi- 
mony of consciousness that thev are self-originated, and this evidence 
is better than any testimony to the existence of their mechanical actions 
and as good as any in favor of the existence of any mechanical actions 
whatever. The testimonv to their self-origination does not mean that 
they are free acts of a soul other than the organism. With that ques- 
tion I have nothing to do. All that consciousness attests is their sub- 
jective origin and it matters not whether we adopt the materialistic 
theory of mental functions or not. All that is involved is the fact that 
certain actions called free are subjectivelv initiated and not mechanically 
produced in the manner of ordinarv simple acts of material motion. 
The reason that this testimonv of consciousness has to be accepted is 
that its impeachment in the case of free acts involves its impeachment 
for all acts whatever. I do not sav that consciousness directly and 
intuitively attests the nature of the acts, but onlv that they originate in 
the subject and not bv the object in any such simple way as the trans- 
mission of motion by impact or momentum. But apart from argu- 
ments of this kind the fact is so evident that even pronounced mate- 
rialists have felt obliged to assume that the primordial atom possesses a 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 553 

germ of consciousness attached to it as one of its properties ! It was 
only the old view of inertia that prevented and prevents men from sup- 
posing elemental matter to be self-active, and hence the denial of evi- 
dence for its freedom v/hen that evidence was presented. But as nearly 
all scientific men have come to believe that matter is not the " dead" 
inert thing it was once supposed to be, there is perfect readiness to 
admit into materialism postulates that were once denied. It is true 
that its advocates do not see the abandonment of their traditional view 
and the adoption of properties that had been previously admitted to 
properly characterize the immaterial and the divine. The facts were 
denied because the immaterial and the divine were denied. But the 
later materialism simply appropriates the facts and conceptions of 
theism under its own name and is not ashamed of the theft. Material- 
ism has simply been abandoned without calling the result spiritualism 
or theism, the advocate of it forgetting that the admission of facts and 
properties into the conception of matter which had all along either 
been denied or assumed to contradict materialism only generalized his 
conception of matter to more or less identify it with the spiritual. The 
fact of organic spontaneity is all the more effective from the considera- 
tion that the absoluteness of inertia, even below the organic world, is 
denied and hence is much less probable in a field where the distinction 
from the ordinary mechanical phenomena is infinitely more marked ; 
and the refinement of the conception of matter is carried so far that 
there are no clear criteria of its distinction from the traditional imma- 
terial reality, or of its incapacity for all the functions supposed to be 
the peculiar characteristic of the divine. 

The etiological argument thus results in the exposure of the defects 
in the older materialism and the confirmation of the position which 
was a necessary consequence of these defects, namely, the recognition 
of limitation to the doctrine of inertia and of a self -activity in things, a 
position that either demands an immaterial Absolute or converts the 
term " matter" into a practical equivalent of the immaterial as often 
enough conceived. In either case the conclusion is the same and the 
old antitheses and controversies have no excuse for their persistence, 
except the stupid incapability of both sides to see that they agree. But 
there is gained for the system of belief that, in some form or another, 
self -activity has "to be conceded as a function of reality and one of the 
most important characteristics of the Absolute beyond its mere sub- 
stantive nature thus becomes a rational object of belief. 

2. The Ontological Arg-2iinent. — This is the argument from 
material causes, as the ^etiological was from efiicient causes. This on- 



554 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

tological argument also divides into two forms which I may distin- 
guish as before, the noumenological and the cosmological, and turning 
more or less upon the same class of facts though viewed somewhat 
differently. By the noumenological point of view I mean the process 
of reducing reality to unity of kind, reducing the Absolute from mul- 
tiplicity to simplicity. This is done by comparison and classification. 
It matters not whether the comparison and classification is of sub- 
stances or attributes. If we start with the latter, as we may very well 
do, we should only apply the etiological argument to the resultant and 
obtain a smaller number of types of substances than with unclassified 
attributes. But assuming that similar attributes imply similarity of 
substances and different attributes different substances, w^e may start to 
simplify the multiplicity of nature by finding that its realities are re- 
ducible to a small number of kinds, or even ultimately to one all-per- 
vading energy. The earliest systems of philosophy admitted that the 
elements were qualitatively different and usually limited in their num- 
ber. Ancient materialism of the Democritic and Epicurean type, as 
we have seen, postulated an indefinite number of Absolutes, though 
they were all of the same kind. But modern atomism has again ac- 
cepted a qualitative difference in the elements and limited them to 
some seventy or more. More recent speculations, however, more 
especially in the law and classification of the eleinents by Mendelejeff, 
have inclined to reduce these seventy or more elements to a single 
form of ultimate reality which has differentiated itself by evolution 
into the various kinds, whatever that way of describing the change 
may mean. This result permits of the supposition that all activity 
may originate in the ether and flows through matter as its channel 
after matter is once formed, and the doctrine of inertia is saved by 
putting the origin of change outside of matter. This general move- 
ment is exactly parallel with that from polytheism to monotheism in 
ancient thought, or perhaps better, duplicates it. It is simply the re- 
duction of the Absolute to one instead of many. But I shall not in- 
dulge in speculations of this kind further than to remark the important 
point that the tendency of science is away from an ultimate pluralism 
and toward an ultimate monism which is decidedly away from the old 
mechanical materialism and toward the theistic conception of things. 
This scientific and philosophic monism exhibits reality as far removed 
from " matter" as spirit can be conceived to be. The ontology of the 
problem reduces its aetiology to a single active principle at the basis of 
things, with a tendency to describe it in terms that are the negative of 
the sensible physical world. All that is required to complete the 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. SSS 

"spiritualizing" process is to prove that this final reality, whatever 
name we give it, is intelligent or acts along rational lines. 

The cosmological side of the ontological argument is the applica- 
tion of the conservation of energy to antecedent and consequent, or to 
the series of phenomena which are supposed to constitute the world. 
In discussing the materialistic theory of the soul I called attention to 
the fact that this doctrine of conservation had tended, in the minds of 
many of its advocates, to identify antecedent and consequent qualita- 
tively ; that is, to identify in kind and in spite of all superficial differ- 
ences the phenomena of the world which were supposed to be an 
expression of its nature. The previous materialism had kept up the 
antithesis between the subjective and objective, between the internal 
and the external, betvv^een antecedent and consequent, owing to the 
fact of an exclusive reliance upon the conception of efficient causes in 
the explanation of phenomena, and consequently its phenomena as 
effects were no material attestation of the character of the cause other 
than as an agent capable of producing an effect. But the materialism 
that found expression in the conservation of energy had either to re- 
duce the effect to the more circumscribed nature of its efficient cause, 
treating the apparent differences as allusions, or to admit into the 
cause what is observed in the effect. Of course, it tried the policy of 
maintaining the identity of antecedent and consequent while it pre- 
served the implication drawn from the assumption of their difference, 
a task that is impossible. Nothing is clearer than the fact that, if 
cause and effect are identical in kind, we cannot eliminate the recog- 
nized nature of the effect from that of the cause. According to the 
conservation of energy qualitatively interpreted, the difference between 
antecedent and consequent need not be greater than that between two 
personal consciousnesses. The objective consciousness of another per- 
son does not appear to be a consciousness to me except through teleo- 
logical evidence. All that I perceive is a system of what are called 
physical phenomena or movements from which I infer the existence of 
consciousness antecedent to them, and by them producing an effect upon 
my own sensorium. When I assume that consciousness is behind those 
movements I identify it in kind with my own, but its nature is no more 
directly apparent to me than the nature of a cause is to its effect. It is 
quite possible to explain the distinction and apparent differences between 
all causes and effects in this way, if we insist on applying the conserva- 
tion of energy to them qualitatively, making the effect as much the 
standard for determining the character of the cause as any direct study 
of the cause itself. So long, therefore, as the conservation of energy is 



55^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

interpreted to mean an identity between the products of cosmic action 
and the source of them, so long must it face the necessity of seeing in 
the consequent the nature of the antecedent. The iUusion can in fact be 
turned completely around and charged to the materialist for supposing 
that the cosmos is mechanical. The effect is what is more directly 
known as a datum of experience and the cause often indirectly and 
inferentially, in so far as its "empirical" nature is concerned. If 
illusion is chargeable to our interpretation of the case it can as w^ell be 
thrown upon our assumption of the nature of the cause as well as upon 
that of the effect. In this problem illusion is a two-edged sword. It 
cuts both ways. The duty of the human intellect, when it is dealing 
with material causes, is to recognize the nature of the effect as fully as 
the cause. The "highest" product of nature demands as much con- 
sideration as the" lowest." In the animal and human worlds we have 
consciousness as the final result of the process of evolution, and the 
conservation of energy, which is assumed to be the basal principle of 
evolution, if interpreted to imply qualitative identity of the various 
steps in this process, must find consciousness in some form in the 
stages preceding the " highest" and supposed to exclude this "phe- 
nomenon." There is no escape from this but to return to some form 
of antithesis in kind between cause and effect. But we cannot sup- 
port evolution upon the conservation of energy or persistence of force 
qualitatively interj^reted and at the same time assume the old antithesis 
wdiich was based upon the notion of efficient as distinct from material 
causes. Efficient causes were supposed to produce effects unlike them- 
selves, so that consciousness appeared as an epiphenomenon irreducible 
to the materially functional, while it was assumed that the material was 
clearly understood. But evolution has insisted that there is a stream of 
identity running throughout the cosmic process, and whatever func- 
tion it assigns to efficient causation must modify the old interpretation 
of the antithesis between cause and effect or surrender the usual con- 
ception of its evolutionary process. The assumption of the identity 
of cause and effect must involve a definite proof of the personality of 
the Absolute, even though it may not be the type we most wish, and 
also as complete a disproof of the ultimately dead and inert character 
of cosmic reality. If the theist wants to W'in his victory without 
effort he has only to prove and joress the conser\'ation of energy as it 
is so often conceived and he will have every form of impersonal 
materialism at his mercv. 

But it is the doubt about anv such interpretation of the consen-a- 
tion of energy that prevents this argument from being perfectly con- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 557 

elusive. In the first flush of enthusiasm over a position that seemed 
to sustain the persistence of motion and to deny its creation the advo- 
cates of the conservation of energy ran off into assertions that left no 
room for the differences between cause and effect, but which were ap- 
parent enough to make a resort to illusion necessary, if the difference 
were pressed against conservation, as a condition of sustaining a unity 
and identity in things not superficially evident. But the more the 
"phenomena" were dispassionately studied the more evident it be- 
came that the conservation of energy was a doctrine subject to decided 
limitations. It was obliged to confine its identity of cause and effect 
to quantitative and not to extend it to qualitative aspects of phenomena. 
Correlation became the better expression for the facts that were once 
supposed to be clearly reducible to the ordinary mechanical concep- 
tion, as described in the common transmission of motion. That 
abandonment of the qualitative identity between antecedent and conse- 
quent is a return to the principle of efficient causation as distinct from 
material, and may assume that the effect is different in kind from the 
cause and a creation of it. This enables us to remain by the material- 
istic assumption that consciousness may be a function of an organism 
that is composed of units whose activities may not contain any con- 
sciousness or capacity for it independently of their combination in an 
organism. But the moment that we assume an identity of kind be- 
tween the m.otion that is supposed to instigate consciousness in an 
organism we have to admit that the consequent is quite as much an 
expression of the nature of things as motion, and the only position 
that will escape this conclusion is the abandonment of the qualitative 
interpretation of the conservation of energy. 

It is true that there are many facts which point to some measure of 
identity between antecedent and consequent in certain cases. It would 
indeed be strange if it were not so, when the ontological consideration 
of material causes in the substrata of phenomena leads to a perfect 
identity of kind in the various forms of matter and to the singleness- of 
the Absolute, in spite of the differences that we observe in things. 
Subjects revealing likeness of kind should show likeness of function, 
so that their interactions, whether representing causal relations of a 
purely transmissive and mechanical sort or not, would manifest some 
measure of identity between the members of the series, and only differ- 
ences enough to give and sustain individuality. The fact that the ele- 
ments with all their differences can be classified in the law of Mendele- 
jeff and appear to be ultimately reducible to one form of reality is suf- 
ficiently near the Leibnitzian doctrine to suggest that, in spite of the 



55^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

differences, their actions will resemble each other enough to suppose 
some identity between antecedent and consequent, though it may not be 
determined by any principle of transmission but by efficient causation 
without this transmission and without assuming that the efficient cause 
has to be different from the effect in all its aspects. The two subjects, 
putting ourselves at Leibnitz' point of view, may be sufficientlv alike 
with some differences to account for the identity of cause and effect 
without assuming transmission. The fact that any language of inde- 
structibility and convertibility at all could be applied to the relation 
between cause and effect rather favors some modicum of identitv be- 
tween them in the field either of " phenomena " or of " reality," and 
perhaps both, and one can even ask how that identity could be spoken 
of as quantitative without involving more or less of the qualitative 
with it. 

There is a good analogy which can be obtained from psvchology. 
It has become necessary in recent years to distinguish between what are 
called subliminal and supraliminal mental operations as apparently dis- 
tinct from the merely mechanical actions of the brain and conscious- 
ness as introspecti\'ely known. The time was, however, and this was 
in the schools of Descartes, when the contrast was between conscious- 
ness and cerebral activity, and this was drawn so sharply as to pre- 
clude all elements of identity. But the study of psychology has shown 
a field of functional activitv that cannot easilv be identified or confused 
with either of these extremes. There is a large class of so-called sub-- 
liminal actions which show intelligence enough to require distinction 
X from the purely mechanical actions of the brain and are yet so foreign 
to the direct apprehension of the supraliminal or normal consciousness 
as to be quite as inaccessible to it immediately as any molecular action 
of the brain. It will at times just merge into this supraliminal and 
hardly preserve its integrity sufficiently to deserve a distinction. At 
other times its cleavage from the normal consciousness is so clear and 
apparently so absolute that it would seem to be a totally different per- 
son. At all times, as exhibited in reproduction and association, it 
may be supposed to be the substratum of activity that determines the 
normal consciousness and emerges into it only by virtue of increased 
intensity or the sudden arousing of the mind from a sleep, as it were, 
to the cognition of conditions that can be met and coped with only by 
functions less lethargic than the subliminal. This subliminal while it 
serves as the background of much or all that appears in the supraliminal 
shows such marked evidences of being intelligent and conscious in some 
sense of the term that it is impossible to distinguish it from the nor- 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 559 

mal by any characteristic except the normal mnenonic link or normal 
introspection. All the coordinations, adjustments, and displays of 
mind, a hyperassthesia at times, memory, judgment of its own, and 
reasoning, are there to distinguish it from the fixed and mechanical 
action of the brain in the same way that the normal consciousness is 
distinguished. The least that can be said of it is that it stands between 
cerebral action and consciousness, unless we cut the knot, as the ma- 
terialist does, by identifying consciousness and cerebral action. But in 
fact subliminal mental action can be distinguished from the normal 
consciousness only by the fact that it cannot be introspected by the nor- 
mal stream while every other characteristic absolutely identifies it with 
the best that we know of intelligence. If then we should concede the 
elastic nature of cerebral and molecular action and break down the line 
of demarcation between it and subliminal action so as to identify them, 
as some do, we should have a certain continuity of kind in all the phe- 
nomena excluded from consciousness as most familiarly known, a 
result that would create a presumption in favor of applying this con- 
tinuity to the relation between the subliminal and supraliminal, and 
consequently the substantial identity of mental and cerebral action. 
Scientific men who use the conception of the subliminal so freely are 
not always, if ever, aware of the significance attaching to the concep- 
tion of consciousness for describing what is as fully excluded from the 
normal state as the external world which has so long been absolutely 
distinguished from the mind. Subliminal consciousness, excluding what 
we really know of consciousness introspectively, is so closely related to 
the wholly unconscious of brain action as to be apparently identifiable 
with it, and yet the description of it in terms of the mental implies its 
identity with that also. It is certain, however, that the distinction so 
sharply drawn by the Cartesians can no longer be sustained so clearly, 
and the fact that it cannot be so dogmatically assumed or asserted as 
then leaves the question of their relation open to consideration on the 
lines of their substantial identity through the connecting link of sub- 
liminal action. Such a procedure carries with it the necessity of esti- 
mating the nature of things as much by the "highest" as by the 
" lowest," as already remarked. It is certain, then, that, on any 
principle of the conservation of energy involving the qualitative iden- 
tity of the mechanical with the subliminal, and of the subliminal with 
the supraliminal, this view leads inevitably to the identification of the 
extremes and we shall be obliged to interpret the antecedent by the nature 
of the consequent in order to save our doctrine. In fact on any princi- 
ple of cause and effect, even that of efiicient as distinct from material 



560 THE PROBLEMS OF FIULOSOPHY. 

cause, whether we interpret the conserv'ation of energy as merely quan- 
titative or not, the effect or consequent is entitled to as much consider- 
ation in the interpretation of the nature of the cosmic Absolute as the 
antecedent, especially when that antecedent has to be regarded as quite 
as much an effect or phenomenon as anything supposed to be its con- 
sequent. With consciousness at the top of things it will be hard to 
exclude it from the bottom on any ontological interpretation of the 
relation between cause and effect, when any other conception of causal- 
ity involves the necessity of valuing consciousness as highly as any 
other phenomenon in the determination of the nature of things. The 
continuity that reigns throughout the physical universe and the process 
of evolution, in spite of the variations of kind manifest on the surface, 
are indications that we may yet find complete evidence of intelligence 
in the Absolute, though we may not be able to give it the anthro- 
pomorphic form which appears most intelligible to us. All that pre- 
vents us from doing this is the actual weakness of the theor}- of con- 
serwition which, in encountering qualitative differences sufficient to 
preserve individuality, provides a difficulty in the ontological argument. 
The Teleological Argtime7it. — Kant, as we know, estimated this 
more highly than any other argument. With his conception of the 
problem as discussed in the cosmological and " ontological " methods 
this judgment was correct enough. But I cannot help thinking that 
it is less important and cogent than the Eetiological and ontological 
arguments as I have defined them. Of course the ontological argu- 
ment, as based upon the conservation of energy qualitatively inter- 
preted, is purely ad hominem^ and the teleological method comes in to 
utilize the conditions left by the reinstatement of efficient causation 
after the limitation of the material. It is clear that there was a close 
connection between Kant's conception of the problem as found in the 
cosmological aiid the teleological methods. Both started upon the 
mechanical conception of the cosmos as not to be questioned within 
certain limits, a view driven into his mind by his interest in physical 
science and his deviation from the monadism of Leibnitz which this 
interest enforced. The manner in which Kant returns again and again 
to the cosmological conception of the problem shows that he sympa- 
thized with that way of stating it and of representing the facts, and the 
only difficulty that he felt with the theistic interpretation of it grew out 
of his inability to prove that the cosmic order had any such necessary 
beginning in time as the theistic position seemed to require. In the 
earliest stage of his thinking Kant accepted as a foregone conclusion 
the purely mechanical view of the world and the interaction of its parts 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 561 

and elements, and did not realize fully the problem that he had to deal 
with until he came to write the Critique of Judgme7it. Here he came 
upon the conception of organic teleology which gave the teleological 
argument all the force that it had. But until he came to this view the 
mechanical conception which seemed to demand a cosmological begin- 
ning in time as a condition for all initiation of change apparently left 
the theistic doctrine to the mercy of agnosticism. The force of the 
teleological argument in organic nature came, not from its inconsis- 
tency with a cosmological origin of motion, but from the assumption 
that the series of events in the cosmos was not one simple succession 
of " phenomena," but many lines of series cooperating and converging 
toward a common end or result, when each series taken alone would 
offer no natural tendency toward this end. A simple succession of 
events having a mechanical invariability and not being selective toward 
the consequences toward which it moves will betray little or no evi- 
dence of purpose or intelligence, no matter how much of that char- 
acteristic may actually be present. If we see the initiation of a simple 
mechanical series, as the throwing of a ball, we have evidence of its 
purpose, not in its result or in the motion toward it, but only in the 
knowledge of intelligence antecedent to it. The intelligence may be 
there in the one case as the other, but without the direct knowledge of 
its purposive initiation that intelligence is not easily, if at all, discover- 
able. The same would be true of a number of parallel series of dif- 
ferent phenomena not cooperating for a common result, and if at any 
point they should actually come into conflict the effect might even be a 
positive difiiculty to the supposition of intelligence and an evidence of 
mere chance. But it is hardly so with convergent series of events not 
naturally connected by mechanical considerations and a priori antici- 
pation of their relation to each other. The convergent influence of 
many different conditions to one harmonious whole seems so beyond 
chance, which was supposed to rule the mechanical order, that it sug- 
gests intelligence as well as causality behind the process, though all the 
individual series of events be conceived as mechanical and without 
evidence of purpose. 

Now it was the mechanical conception of nature which showed to 
Kant the weakness of the cosmological argument, and it was the as- 
sumptions of idealism perpetuating the antithesis between thought and 
reality that exposed the weakness of the " ontological " argument, 
while it was the evident orderliness of nature and the consistency of 
intelligence with a mechanical system, its necessity, perhaps, if that 
system were complex enough, that saved the teleological method when 
36 



562 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the others were surrendered. When we add to this the demonstrable 
fact of purpose in animal and human actions, with at least a decided 
simulation of it in the tropisms of the organic vegetable kingdom, we 
discover a situation from which it is hard to exclude the idea of pur- 
pose when looking at a mechanical order on which the whole is built. 
Accepting the positive knowledge that conscious purpose operates in 
ourselves, we have only to press the materialist on his own theory with 
the organic nature and connection of man with the cosmic order, with 
the law of evolution and the continuity in nature, and with the conser- 
vation of energy, as frequently interpreted, in order to insist that pur- 
pose will be found at the very basis of the system. We have in our 
own mechanical productions analogies that are of some value both in 
regard to the strength of the argument and the evidential weakness 
w4th which it may at times be associated. We can easily distinguish 
a machine from a product of nature in most cases and we distinguish 
it by the evidence of design in the coordination and articulation of the 
parts, and it is most interesting to remark that we can often be assured 
of design with perfect confidence although we are powerless to specify 
the particular purpose of the machine. It is important to note this 
fact, because the objection against design in nature might be advanced 
that we could not indicate just what its purpose is. While it may be 
granted that we cannot specify exactly what the meaning of nature is, 
it may nevertheless give evidences, like a machine, of soine design. 
Before we can estimate its character we must know the particular pur- 
pose it displays, but our ignorance of this desirable trait does not pre- 
vent the formation of a perfectly legitimate conviction that there is 
some purpose in it, if the evidence is present to suggest and establish 
it. The general argument is the complication and coordination of 
various apparently independent organs to an end not attainable by any 
one of them alone. The appearance of this condition of things in 
nature offers some excuse for the application of teleology to nature, as 
in the interpretation of the actions of organic life, whatever the diffi- 
culties involved in the problem. Nor does the fact of natural selection 
and the survival of the fittest alter the case, as thev are often supposed 
to do. They only increase our respect for an order that might be 
worse than it is. If we knew the exact outcome of the cosmic ten- 
dency in regard to the weak we might apologize more clearly for the 
process of natural selection and the survival of the fittest, but wanting 
this information we can onlv note the fact that thev indicate nothing 
more than the fact or possibility of defects in the causal regulation of 
the cosmic order, but they do not exclude purpose bv proving that it 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 563 

is finite, if there at all. The trouble with most thinkers is that they 
expect the process to be infinite and perfect or nothing, one party 
having the courage to afiirm that it is a fact and the other denying it 
altogether because of its finitude. It is only our sympathy with the 
weak, a spirit created by Christian civilization, that induces us to 
quarrel with the survival of the fittest, a policy that would be quite 
justified if the immortality of the soul could be established, or if not 
justified, very much mitigated. 

There are various difiiculties with the teleological argument which 
have to be removed in order to discover what cogency it actually has, 
as well as its weakness. The first is found in the antithesis between 
nature and art, as it may be called, the latter furnishing us with all 
the positive evidence we have of objective design independent of na- 
ture. The reason that our mechanical inventions and devices supply 
us with the absolutely conclusive evidence for design in their coordina- 
tion of multiple independent agents to an end is found in our con- 
sciousness of the ends which we have in view when making them. 
We are in direct knowledge of their purpose by actually constructing 
them for a given end, and any construction of a mechanical complex 
resembling what we know is teleological will suggest this even when 
the specific purpose is not known. Moreover all human conquests 
over nature have represented what often or always passes for some- 
thing superior to the natural order of things. The very survival of 
the species depends upon achievements that mean more or less man's 
superiority to "nature" and certainly his appreciation of those 
achievements representing what " nature" will not spontaneously ac- 
complish. These artificial arrangements certainly show more decided 
evidence of purpose than the order of bare nature. The construction 
of a park leaves no doubt about the existence of a purpose, even 
though we might not be able to name it, while the growth of a forest 
or the formation of a mountain would possibly conceal its design alto- 
gether, if it had any at all. All the artificial triumphs of civilization, 
invention, manufacture, art, government show so much that is wrung 
from nature, not spontaneously given us, that they inevitably de- 
termine the standard by which we measure its character. All the 
finest appreciations and achievements come from a struggle against 
nature, not from its benevolence. A life amid the perpetual results of 
this struggle and their contrast with the real, and the shadows which 
idealism discovers on reality, provide the criteria by which we estimate 
the purposive or purposeless nature of things. Design and benevo- 
lence are patent in our own achievements and the contrast with the 



564 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

order from which they are wrung inevitably reflects a sceptical suspi- 
cion upon the claims of providence in what seems to be nothing but a 
mechanical system. Of course, it is an adequate defence against all 
this to say that the purpose of nature may be very different from that 
which is so apparent in the creation of art. But this logical defence 
does not remove the moral embarrassment of the situation. Civiliza- 
tion is so dependent upon the virtues which determine all the achieve- 
ments of art against nature that we have hardly any other criterion of 
morality in the ordinary consciousness but the duty to rise above na- 
ture. Our ideals are so complicated with the advances that we have 
made against the struggle for existence and the effort of nature to keep 
us down, so to speak, that, whatever purpose is possible in it, is not 
likely to be attractive enough to secure our worship. 

" Let us understand once for all," says Mr. Huxley, in his Romanes 
Lecture, that the ethical progress of society depends, not on imitating 
the cosmic process, still less in running away from it, but in combat- 
ing it. It may thus seem an audacious proposal thus to pit the mi- 
crocosm against the macrocosm and to set man to subdue nature to his 
higher ends, but I venture to think that the great intellectual difference 
between ancient times with which we have been occupied and our day, 
lies in the solid foundation we have acquired for the hope that such an 
enterprise may meet with a certain measure of success. 

" The history of civilization details the steps by which men have 
succeeded in building up an artificial world within the cosmos. Fra- 
gile reed as he may be, man, as Pascal says, is a thinking reed ; there 
lies within him a fund of energy, operating intelligently and so far 
akin to that which pervades the universe, that it is competent to influ- 
ence and modify the cosmic process. In virtue of his intelligence, the 
dwarf bends the Titan to his will. In every family, in every polity 
that has been established, the cosmic process in man has been re- 
strained and otherwise modified by law and custom ; in surrounding 
nature, it has been similarly influenced by the art of the shepherd, the 
agriculturist, the artisan. As civilization has advanced, so has the 
extent of this interference increased ; until the organized and highly 
developed sciences and arts of the present day have endowed man with 
a command over the course of non-human nature greater than that 
once attributed to the magicians." 

Consequently, art obtains all our admiration and enthusiasm, and 
in default of clear evidence of even so high a design, much less a 
higher design than this in the cosmic order, we are in danger of so 
extolling our own superiority to it that we mav forget the virtues of 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. S^^ 

obedience and humility. But the formation of ideals from a teleolog- 
ical order that is won against nature inevitably tends to darken the 
vision for any other form of intelligence or virtue. 

The second difficulty comes from the long standing assumption of 
a unity of plan in nature that converged all forces in the welfare and 
destiny of man. Man naturally places himself at the head of creation, 
and his own ideals, as we have just seen, tend to obscure the recogni- 
tion of anything else, while aristocratic instincts prompt him to treat 
all else as subservient to his aims, and to adjvidge it accordingly. 
Besides Christianity started out, in the teaching of St. Paul at least, 
as already remarked, with the conception that the whole creation was 
organized with reference to the existence and salvation of man. 

One God, one law, one element 

And one far off divine event 

To which the whole creation moves. 

But I must contend that this conception, whatever we might say of 
its tendency to encourage too much self-importance in man, is exposed 
to the very serious attack the moment that we endeavor to make it 
consist with the totality of cosmic facts now within the range of scien- 
tific knowledge. Man may be the highest development of the known 
universe, but this fact does not prove the convergence in him of its 
forces and plans. There may be manifol.d richer purposes. The fact 
is that singleness of plan is not necessarily the mark of the highest intel- 
Hgence. The division of labor in finite beings may often make an ap- 
parent singleness and imperfection of purpose the only possible course 
for a man to adopt, as the complex work of civilization can be accom- 
plished most economically and with the best results by using the indi- 
vidual's time and energy at one subordinate end in himself. But the 
ideal life hardly admits so one sided a development of the individual, 
and there is probably not any such singleness of plan in the life of any 
man, no matter how his activities may be limited by the struggle for ex- 
istence and the division of labor. It is certain that there are plenty of 
men who cultivate a variety of independent and disconnected ends. It 
is no doubt true that economy of energy is better effected by concentra- 
tion of it, as the whole process of intellectual and moral development 
has shown. But the fact that men can and do cultivate a variety of 
independent ends in life, not always subordinating one as a means to 
another, is evidence that there is no absolute necessity for the cosmos 
to exhibit a single plan as a condition of being regarded as intelligent. 
It might be the contrary of this. It has only to be consistent in the 
variety of ends which it pursues. No doubt an apparent or real single- 



566 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ness of plan would make it easier for man to discover or to understand 
the intelligence pervading it, especially if that plan involved the possi- 
bility of realizing his own moral ideals. But the price at which he 
would gain that intelligibility would be the sacrifice of all that gives 
richness and wonder to the scene in which his lot is cast. On any theory 
of the cosmos it is a congeries of plans w^hich cannot be made intelli- 
gible to us by pressing them into one mold or by attempting to sub- 
ordinate some to ends with which they do not naturally articulate, and 
this is true even though ultimate knowledge of things might discover 
more unity of plan than is now apparent. Of course, w'hatever 
variety of purposes may exist either in nature or man it will have some 
sort of unity, as this would follow from the unity of the intelligence 
that held them. But it is not necessary to formulate this unity by an 
abstraction embracing the whole or by selecting one to which the 
others are subordinated. The unity does not require to be one of 
convergence of manifold actions to one end, though that is possible 
and intelligent, but it may be one of divergence into a variety of con- 
sistent though different actions and ends. It may be better for man, 
and we might say that his duty lies in this, to select some one apparent 
design that commends itself as worthy to aim at and to reinforce the 
efforts of nature to realize it, while he occupies a respectful attitude 
of mind toward what he does not know. jMan's morality too, like his 
art, is so often a conventional product that it prevents his seeing the 
cosmos in its proper light. It leads him to make demands on nature 
which, if granted, would only poison the best springs of character. 
His most spontaneous demand, for instance, is exemption from labor. 
But those who have studied life know that character is never fine unless 
tempered by struggle and effort. The ease and liberty w'hich w'ealth 
gives are not always assurance of moral worth, but more frequently of 
vice and libertinism in some form. Wealth if it is an aristocratic pos- 
session won from the inadequately requited efforts of " the dull millions 
that toil foredone at the wheel of labor " may only conceal behind the 
mask of culture and good manners the most inhuman indifference to 
the rights of man ; if it means nothing more than provision against 
struggle with nature and is not accompanied by voluntary service to 
man which its possession offers the opportunity to perform, it is 
effeminating and demoralizing. This will be true of any ideal which 
relieves man of a struggle with nature, and any that involves the entire 
subordination of the world to his benefit alone tends to obscure that 
scientific vision which can see other values in the cosmos than those 
which seem so important to our conventional conscience. Nature is 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 567 

more bountiful in her provision for truth, beauty, and goodness than 
man would be, and our estimate of its teleology must be made on that 

assumption. 

The fiery -footed barb 
That pounds the pampas, and the lily bells 
That hang above the brooks, present the world 
With no apology for being there. 
And no attempt to justify themselves 
In uselessness. It is enough for God 
That they are beautiful, and hold his thought 
In fine embodiment. 

But the multiplicity of the resources and the apparent purposes of 
nature, especially when they fall below the ideals which man forms for 
the regulation of his own conduct, is precisely the fact which depre- 
ciates the value of the teleological argument for the existence of any 
divine agent that is represented in human interests, while it conceals 
the unity of purpose and moral conceptions which might make for the 
effectiveness of it. If we could stop with the present order in esti- 
mating the teleology of nature, an order which represents no other 
apparent fixed purpose than the continuity of organic species, there 
might be no intellectual difficulties, though we might feel a moral re- 
vulsion toward it. But an end or purpose which ceases with the evo- 
lution of values that have less persistence than the lowest is not one 
which lends itself with ease to idealization. It is inevitable that man, 
at least the best of his kind, should put consciousness in the first rank 
of the ideals to be preserved. Otherwise he wovild not care to make 
nature rational in any respect, and with this acquisition as one of the 
highest products of its evolution, he can but measure the character of 
nature by its attitude toward this result. If he could have any assur- 
ance that the legitimate ideals which are planted in him could have 
any hope of realization beyond the range of the present, where the 
conflict between duty and possibility prevents much, he would have 
at least one fulcrum against the burden of doubt that comes from the 
struggle between fact and hope. It is the absence of clear evidence 
in scientific times that the highest achievements of evolution shall have 
preservation in the only subject or being who can rightly enjoy them or 
use them in the sei'vice of high action and thought that gives the 
sting to reason when asking for a purpose in the world. I can easily 
conceive good grounds for concealing it in certain stages of civiliza- 
tion, but these do not affect those who want a reasonable motive' for 
aspiration and power to idealize life. If only man could be sure of 
the purpose which he thinks ought to animate a providential system 



56S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

when it teaches him to vakie the highest form of consciousness as 
above all other facts, he could well thrust aside curiosity about many 
other plans of the cosmos and devote his energies to further conquests 
in the struggle for existence and would have a fulcrum of great power 
for influencing the tendencies of his nature. But not being certain 
that nature intends to respect his ideals beyond the present life, he has 
no motive but the stoical instinct of duty, with its range of co7ninand 
^extending to unlimited time while its achievement is confined to the 
present, to preserve his intellectual and moral life. Let him feel, 
however, that nature is on the side of his best moral ideals, not real- 
izable under the physical difficulties of human life, and he will not 
have a motive for quarreling with it for its merciless order, and he 
will be in a temper of mind as well as in possession of data to make a 
teleological argument effective, at least in so far as his own duties and 
aspirations are concerned. It is simply because he thinks nature does 
not appear to reveal any intention to preserve its best creations that 
the doubt about its intelligence and morality arises . I am willing to con- 
cede that any attempt to place the ideal only outside the svstem in which 
we at present move and have our being is to threaten its proper devel- 
opment. There is a sense in which the ideal should be found onlv in 
the real, and that those normal natures are the best which fit their 
motives and achievements into the present, content to let the future 
reveal its own purposes. But that is neither to recognize the actual 
possibility of using a high ideal for civilizing man nor to solve an in- 
tellectual problem, except as the reflex of an actually moral life creates 
either faith or insight enough to clear away doubt which too often 
arises from the indolence and lack of courage to make what we fear 
nature will not give when we have not earned its princelv guerdon. 

I shall not say that these difficulties in the teleological argument 
are insuperable. The force which they wall have may be largely a 
matter of temperament. But for the man who seeks anvthing like 
certitude for intelligent causality in the cosmos, tiie inability to clearly 
name a fact which would show any tendency to realize the highest 
ideals a man can form and that he feels are an imperative measure for 
the meaning of things is a circumstance of some weight, not against 
the method of the teleological argument, but against its successful ap- 
plication. That is to my mind its only weakness. Logically it is the 
proper means for proving intelligence in a system which, whatever 
else it may be, certainlv represents a vast mechanical order, though the 
recognition of more than the old mechanical interpretation of nature 
diminishes the responsibility of teleology in the argument and shares 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 569 

it with ontology, as I have defined this method. All that is wanting 
to make it completely effective is the data in facts which will show 
nature as careful of the individual and the ideals it creates as it is of 
the race and of the relative value which it attaches to consciousness in 
the present. If that be once fixed, whether by faith or reason, by hope 
or science, all other purposes of the cosmos may await solution with- 
out any tortures from doubt, as that so often paralyzes action in fine 
minds. And it is not because there is any superior importance at- 
taching to a future life for consciousness, but because the fact of it 
would be evidence that the value placed upon it in our present life, as 
compared with mere material existence, was actually respected by the 
policy of the cosmos. Materialism of almost every form would dis- 
appear before the fact, not because that term is so dangerous, but be- 
cause the forni which it has taken has associated the impossibility of 
the survival of consciousness with it, and with this system and its im- 
plications out of the way the pervasive care shown by nature in the 
preservation of individual consciousness would suggest very clearly, if 
it did not prove, a wider significance for intelligence in the course of 
things at large than would appear in the assumption of it as a mere 
function of the organism or of composition. 

In the teleology of human art there is always the clear conscious- 
ness that nature will not produce the arrangements that so palpably 
show design. But in the physical world it is the very spontaneity of 
its creations, the condition which gave the etiological argument its 
weight against a mechanical materalism, that deprives us of that inert 
incapacity of nature to dispose its own works, an incapacity which 
supplies a standard for its own limitations when a question of design 
is raised that involves coordinations that do not spontaneously ap- 
pear in what usually passes for a mechanical system in human art. 
The consequence is that the regularity of the cosmic order leaves us 
without any such variation from the natural law of physical phenom- 
ena as is so necessary for the manifest proof of purpose. It may be 
there in all systems, but its presence is not necessarily its proof. The 
organic order merges so insensibly into the mechanical that the design 
is not perfectly apparent when there, while the inability to point out 
one clear and unmistakable fact exhibiting respect for moral ideas ex- 
tending their reach and obligations into the future for realization makes 
such a purpose as may appear on the surface a satire on the intelli- 
gence and moral character which we wish to attribute to the system. 
It is easy to apply the teleological argument to the discovery of human 
intelligence, because the man who applies it has both the conscious- 



570 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ness of purj)ose in his own acts and the standard in those acts bv which 
he measures the existence of intelligence in others. The principle of 
identity, involving the similarity of human acts and the similaritv of 
men in other respects, assumes the validity of our inference to con- 
sciousness and purpose in others. But when external actions diverge 
in their character from those which are sure marks of such intelligence 
as w^e know it, the teleological argument is all at sea. This is the 
reason that philosophers resort to instinct to account for adjustments 
that appear to be neither mechanical nor rationally intelligent. Coor- 
dinations and adjustments in perfect simulation of intelligence take 
place without any experience or education in the idea of ends, or ideas 
of the complex means and results toward which the acts tend, and we 
have no w-ay to describe them in terms of rational purpose, since the 
fundamental element of that conception is absent, namely, the idea of 
the means and end, as we recognize them in our experience, at least in 
so far as our knowledge and the evidence goes. Hence with all our 
confidence in it, instinct is but a name for our ignorance. Teleology 
seems to be limited to adjustments that more or less simulate the acts 
in which we ourselves are directly conscious of purpose, and these 
represent that variation from a mechanical order which we expect and 
observe in human acts. All other fields of observation fade insensiblv 
into ignorance. 

There is a difficutly with the theistic argument which is not con- 
nected particularly with any of the methods involved in the previous 
discussion. It arises from the relation of the subject to the knowledge 
w^hich is prior to it and which is represented in the application of 
aetiological and ontological methods to more general facts than the 
spiritualistic. 

The classification of the sciences showed that they might exist in a 
relation wdiich implied that the results in one might more or less con- 
dition the results in another. Thus we found that the progress made 
in physiology more or less conditioned the amount of progress made 
in psychology and sociology. The same relation and influence was 
extended throughout the svstem. In the field of the noumenological 
sciences this relation obtained between the various problems repre- 
sented by metrology, hylology, " biology," pneumatolog}-, and the- 
ology. The achievements of metrology affect the views and results of 
hylolog}', and these in turn affect those of " biology," the last being 
related in the same way to pneumatology, and pneumatolog}' to the- 
ology. The meaning of this Comtean relation of prior to later knowl- 
edge, as applied to the problem of theolog}', is that the progress in 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. S1^ 

theological problems will be influenced by the condition of pneuma- 
tology at any given time. This is apparent in the history of philosophy, 
though the assumption is often made that theology had conditioned 
pneumatology. But the fact is that it was a problem in pneumatology 
that determined the course of theological thought and its nature, in as 
much as the very idea of the spiritual had to be suggested in the pneu- 
matological problem, while it was the object of theological thought, 
namely, the existence of God, that was used to explain the existence 
of those facts which give rise to the problem of pneumatology. There 
is no contradiction in this fact. It is but the difference between the 
order of existence and the order of knowledge, the or do cognitionis 
being pneumatology, theology, and the ordo naturce being God, soul. 
The point which I wish to emphasize is the fact that the solution of the 
theological problem depends in some respects, at least evidentially, 
upon the progress made in solving the pneumatological problem. This 
is to say that the discovery of anything like " spirit " in man, as a 
condition of explaining the phenomena of consciousness as functions 
of something else than the brain, would create the strongest of pre- 
sumptions in favor of " spirit" at the basis of cosmic action, and it 
would only remain to secure like evidence for the fact. 

I have called attention to the fact that the sole reason for supposing 
separate territories of investigation, or separate sciences, is the fact 
that we have to deal with different types of " phenomena." These 
differences suggest differences of causal ground and create a tendency 
to distinguish ultimate reality accordingly. We found that the anti- 
materialist wants a soul other than matter to account for mental events 
and that he bases his belief in its existence on the difference between 
mental and physical phenomena. But we also found that the law of 
parsimony will not permit the assumption of any such hetero-realities 
as long as the facts can be explained rationally by the existing and ac- 
cepted reality of matter. It may be rational to suppose a soul, but if 
it is so, it is because matter cannot explain the " phenomena " of con- 
sciousness. The facts of consciousness may require a soul to explain 
them, but if they do, the scientific criterion in the case will exact more 
stringent evidence than the introspective and analytical examination of 
consciousness. This conclusion, however it is gotten, and while it may 
not be the sole condition for suggesting the existence of a spiritual back- 
ground to nature, deprives scepticism of the strongest of its presump- 
tions and prepares the way for raising the question as to the nahire 
of the Absolute or God in relation to intelligence, not his existence in 
relation to causality which has to be determined, as we have shown, 



572 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

by aitiological considerations. That existence, as we have seen, 
might not extend beyond the supersensible form of matter, so that the 
remaining question would be whether there was any direct or indirect 
evidence of his consciousness. The existence of a soul other than the 
organism, whether we choose to regard that soul as refined matter or 
as spirit, would quite evidently establish a position of advantage to the 
theistic argument, as it would widen our conception of the nature of 
things to admit the possibility of much that is not dreamt of in our 
ordinary philosophy. This widening process is shown in the classifi- 
cation of the sciences where the serial order of dependence shows phe- 
nomena bearing evidence as the sciences progress of greater and greater 
supersensible significance. But the last steps are limited by the amount 
of progress made in the preceding. The difficulties with theism, there- 
fore, are directly proportioned to the doubts regarding the existence 
of the soul. 

In the past, history has shown us that the existence of God as an 
immaterial reality obtained, as a belief, its evidential cogency primarily 
from the assumption that all matter, sensible and supersensible, w^as 
created, that is, had a beginning in time. If this be once assumed 
there is no escape from the belief in the existence of such an imma- 
terial substratum, whatever other attributes can or cannot be ascribed 
to it. The strength or weakness of the belief is that of the assumption 
that all matter is created. On the other hand, if the assumption of 
the created and transient nature of supersensible matter is not made, 
there is no reason for going beyond it for a belief in the existence of 
God, unless there are facts requiring it and we insist upon dualism. 
The supersensible might be treated as this reality, as we have indi- 
cated, being necessitated by the assumption that sensible matter is the 
result of causal action. This supersensible matter might be the per- 
manent cause of things and the only question remaining would be as 
to how consciousness in the individual is related to it, whether ( a ) as 
a function of a supersensible reality other than the physical organism 
or ( 3 ) as a function only of the sensible reality itself dissolvable. 
The former conclusion would strengthen the belief that the supersen- 
sible world had larger possibilities than are usually assumed by sci- 
ence, and the latter would leave materialism an undisputed master 
of the field. It is quite apparent therefore to what extent theism 
awaits the conclusion of pneumatology. 

I shall have occasion in the last chapter to make some final obser- 
vations on this problem. At present I can only summarize the discus- 
sion that has already taken form. In doing this I must emphasize a 



THE EXISTENCE OF GOD. 573 

remark previously made. It is that no one of the methods here em- 
ployed to justify the belief in the existence of God, or some reality 
active and intelligent in the cosmic process, is sufficient alone to estab- 
lish the full content of that idea, unless we can assume that the teleo- 
logical argument, as an embodiment or combination of the other two, 
can do so. The aetiological method has its limitations and can go no 
further than guaranteeing some sort of Absolute other than mere phe- 
nomena. The ontological argument shows the unity of the Absolute 
as the background of the multiple realities that are either its modes, 
its creations, or its modifications, while it supplies the probable source 
for estimating its attributes in the same way that we determine the 
nature of phenomena by the conservation of energy. It applies the 
principle of identity or material causation to the determination of the 
nature of reality by including the highest m our data, where before we 
had only the principle of efficient causation as our measure, and this 
does not require the antecedent to be like the consequent. If a soul 
other than the organism were once established as a fact beyond ques- 
tion we should not find the ontological argument in the form presented 
so useful as it is now in an ad hominejn way with the believer of the 
conservation of energy qualitatively understood. Consciousness v\^ould 
quite possibly be an attribute of the supersensible reality after such a 
thing as the soul was admitted and it would be only a matter of evi- 
dence to show that the soul existed. But as long as the pneumato- 
logical problem is not solved to satisfaction the ontological argument 
will be a source of greater reliance, whether any more conclusive or 
not. The teleological argument uses the organic adjustments of 
nature which seem too complex for mechanical explanation, and with 
the application of both aetiological and ontological considerations has 
much force in suggesting the possibility of intelligence transcending or 
immanent in mechanism. To each of the methods I concede some force 
for their respective objects, while the fact that all of them together 
coincide in supporting at least the possibility of the divine, is that 
much more in favor of their legitimacy in both method and result. 
The only limitation to their effectiveness is the anthropomorphic con- 
ception of God which we have formed and which is hardly, if at all, 
supported by the data upon which the argument has to be based for 
its material result. There is little difficulty in supposing some kind 
of intelligence initiating and pervading cosmic change and evolution, 
but it IS the specific kind of that intelligence and its evident variation 
from the type of personality which we must naturally revere that gives 
all the trouble. The actual facts of observation in the order of the 



574 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

cosmos do not reflect any other apparent purpose in it than the crea- 
tion and temporary preservation of organic species. The highest 
ideals of man seem to have no part in its destinies. The permanent 
feature of its order seems to be the mechanical one and no recognized 
scientific evidence of interference with it is apparent. It may not be 
necessary that any variation from such an order should be present, 
except as evidence of intelligence. But as long as man conceives a 
mechanical order as possible without intelligent initiation he will be 
sceptical of theistic claims, unless the results of the mechanical order 
coincide with the moral ideals which his nature and ethical impulses 
compel him to recognize. To suppose that the process stops with the 
production of organic species assumes that its best achievements are 
transient and that its lowest order is the more permanent. Some point 
of view in facts must be shown which makes species a means to a 
remoter end and which widens the conception of things beyond the 
present apparent mechanical order, if we are to secure the presump- 
tions needed, and these facts must reconcile the mechanical and the 
organic view of the cosmos. When w^e can soften the immemorial 
antithesis between God and nature the problem will be nearer solution, 
and that can hardly be attained until there is some definite assurance 
that the consciousness of the individual survives death, a fact that 
would indicate that the cosmic system had some respect for the ideals 
that it has implanted and that its own nature was richer than the 
materialist supposed. It remains for the future to furnish the facts 
that may justify any such expectation. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

In the conclusion of this work I wish to undertake a various task. I 
shall not enter into any technical discussion or argument for or against 
any special philosophic doctrine. I wish only to make some confes- 
sions with general reflections on the problems of this volume that have 
to be separated from critical investigations. All the questions that 
have already been the subject of remarks will come up for general 
review, but not for either offensive or defensive criticism, the object 
here being the examination of their strength and weakness in the gen- 
eral culture of history. What I wish to do, then, is to indulge, some- 
what dogmatically, observations that may point the way partly to me- 
diation and partly to the correction of misunderstandings which have 
unfortunately petrified into animosities that ought not to characterize 
the claims of so high a civilization as we possess. In the manifold 
temperaments and interests of the world, philosophy can hardly afford 
to be so selective in its favors as to neglect one half the facts which its 
cosmopolitan genius and functions are called upon to respect. Its duty 
may invite the hostility of both parties in the world's conflict of intel- 
lect and sentiment, but its course is nevertheless clear, whether the 
ideals which it marks out for itself have any prospect of realization or 
not. Misunderstanding may be the penalty for its mediating sympa- 
thies when it does not choose to identify its fortunes with either party 
to controversy, but the other alternative, party warfare, is in danger of 
encouraging in the intellectual movement of history that ghastly spec- 
tacle which makes the struggle for existence in the material world so 
fateful to beauty and goodness, while the truth remains only half dis- 
covered. There are moments in its progress, however, when pacifi- 
cation may not be its duty, but a mark of weakness. These are 
exigencies when it must assume the leadership of human thought and 
direct instead of modify passionate convictions. Unfortunately it 
seldom has the freedom to carry any message to the race except those 
meager truths which the passions of controversy will permit as either 
harmless or unintelligible to both parties. Its inspiration is too often 
checked by the necessity of being dispassionate in the estimation of 
truth, while it has to evade the precipices of sectarian dispute and just 
when it is called to guide and animate both the mind and the will. 

57S 



576 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The sciences, once its wards, have gained their independence, and re- 
ligion, once its protector, will no longer acknowledge its offspring, and 
both in mortal combat with each other agree in the neglect of a 
guardian. But if it choose wisely between mediation and missionary 
zeal, it w'ill have fewer occasions to mourn the loss of its children. 

The first problem to come under review in this conclusion is that 
of realism and idealism. I have already indicated that the distinction 
between them is not always what it seems. Partisans on both sides 
like to caricature their opponents as the only way to proselytize or to 
obtain a hearing. Idealists adopt a conception of realism which gives 
them a cheap and easy victory, and realists evade the difficulties of 
sense perception in a way that makes idealism appear ridiculous. Both 
schools do not always face the facts of human nature with equal frank- 
ness or recognize the difficulties of asserting the position of one or the 
other party \vithout qualification. Too many associated interests are 
at stake to make the truth so attractive as it should be. The attitude 
which I have assumed in this work will be clearly classed by most 
readers as realistic, although I have been careful not to so denominate 
myself. I must warn the student, however, that I am likeh- to protest 
against any such characterization. It can be made only on very defi- 
nite conditions, and these are that the term shall be elastic enough to 
include much that is covered by idealism and that the measure of its 
meaning shall not be the untutored mind. I would resent equally the 
accusation that I was an idealist, as perhaps the general spirit of pre- 
vious discussion sufficiently indicates, though not because there is no 
truth in it, but because it is quite as liable to illusions as its rival theory. 
Verbal tags of this kind are worse than useless unless their limitations 
are fully recognized and clearly stated. The truth is too complicated 
and too comprehensive to be concentrated in a shibboleth, no matter 
whether the denomination be realism or idealism. Neither is the 
combination of these terms any better, except to prove the more cos- 
mopolitan spirit of the man who concedes it. If \ve could insist, as I 
think we can, that there is no reasonable difference between the two 
theories, when we ignore the uneducated mind which has no theories, 
we could be independent of narrowing terms like these, as the problem 
of " knowledge " should be cosmopolitan. There is nothing more con- 
ducive to narrow-mindedness in philosophy, a quality that goes by the 
name of bigotr}- in religion, than the persistent attempt to exhaust the 
riches in the problem of "knowledge" by dialectic play with these 
terms. The meaning of the universe cannot be compressed into either 
of these conceptions, as they must be conceived concretelv. Their 



CONCLUSION. 577 

content cannot be finally or exhaustively determined by a definition or 
a single illustrative concept. Whatever meaning they possess can be 
obtained and understood only at the end, not the beginning of our 
reflections, and it is useless to attempt the inoculation of any student's 
mind with the assumption that he must direct his thought to either goal 
as the condition of intelligent reflection. The consequence is that 
" idealism" and " realism" are mere playthings for minds that have 
become lost in abstractions and do not know how to find their way in 
facts, unless they try to preempt their riches by question-begging 
epithets. I concede them an important convenience for minds that 
have once conquered the labyrinthian mazes of speculative thought and 
that can command all its ramifications in expositioia of the problem. 
In this situation they will always take the coloring of their environment 
and lose that inflexible cast which dogmatism and scholastic logic tend 
to give them. Away from the facts that illustrate them and make 
them intelligible, they are only barren abstractions like the distinctions 
of scholasticism. Hence, as conceptions for philosophic conjuring 
they are too bare to conceal the tricks which try to mask knowledge in 
learned dialectic, while a bold insight and a rich judgment equipped 
with facts of experience can penetrate all disguises and exhibit a more 
splendid vision than any formal logic working on abstractions. The 
literature which does not pass technically as philosophy, but which 
actually deals with philosophic problems is an evidence of this. It is 
intelligible and inspiring. It is not ashamed to use the vernacular to 
express its thoughts. It has patience and is willing to take time in the 
communication of its ideas. It appeals to the imagination. It reaches 
far beyond the colder analysis of scientific criticism and appeals to that 
wide experience which is not ashamed to admit the influence of poetry 
into philosophic reflection. There are, of course, limits to the legit- 
imate use of such influences, as truth is clearer when it is divested of 
emotional color, though it may have less power. But if philosophy 
had retained its old human interests it might enjoy the advantages o£ 
such a connection in its theories. But it has taken on the critical and 
exacting temper of science, and eschews embellishment as it would! 
poison. Its "realism" has become doubly realistic in its tendencies, 
to materialistic conception, and even its idealism has lost the warmth 
of feeling and enthusiasm that charactei^ized Platonic speculation and 
has adopted the frigid, passionless method and matter of the Kantian 
theory of " knowledge." It is all a part of the reaction against the 
emotional view of things that had associated itself with the poetic and 
religious theories of the world, and has a most healthy influence in so 

37 



57S THE PROBLEMS OF PHIi^OSOPHY. 

-far as it has conduced to profounder and truer thought. But there is 
no reason why both the poetic and the scientific side of pliilosophy 
could not find shelter under the same covering. Truth has power in 
proportion to the passion with which it is held and in proportion to 
the success with which it allies itself with art and morality. 

It is often said that realism is the natural theory of the common 
mind, and that reflection invariably supplants it by idealism. But this 
is not exactly the way to state the facts of the case. The common 
mind in reality does not have any theory whatever that can be called 
.by the name. Its conceptions may be what the}- are represented to 
be by the idealist, but in spite of its acceptance of certain forms of 
statement without criticism or analysis its position is not to be taken 
as something desen'ing a philosophic name and refutation. What 
calls itself idealism is the outcome of conscious investigation and criti- 
cism, and of the discovery that the naive judgments of " common 
sense " possess certain perplexities wdiich demand study and explana- 
tion. The type of thought which this naive position represents 
accepts the denomination of realism from those who undertake its 
refutation. As a theory of " knowledge," therefore, realism is subse- 
quent to what calls itself idealism, though the conception denominated 
by it is not thus subsequent. Its place and function in thought must 
therefore be determined relatively to the purposes of idealism. Now 
idealism, whatever excursions it makes into metaphysics and ethics, 
comes back in epistemology to the propositions which are attempts to 
give some consistent meaning to the illusions and normal phenomena 
of sense experience in connection with our natural judgments. Its 
reaction against " common sense '' leads it into forms of statement 
which must appear paradoxical when they apparently or really deny 
the existence of an external world. Realism is nothing more than a 
protest against svich a denial, or language that apparently and naturally 
implies it. It stands for a clear and definite assertion of more than 
the subject's own states of consciousness, and hence denies solipsism 
\vhich appears to be the most logical interpretation of the idealistic 
theory of "knowledge." It is not necessary to review here at any 
length this old question further than to remark that both realism and 
idealism are reconcilable in the position that external reality is a fact 
whether " experience" or sensation is a measure of its " nature" or 
not. Formulas which aim to correct the ignorant by conceptions 
quite as anomalous as the uncritical ideas of "common sense " are 
perplexing are sure to elicit counter corrections, since men are not 
any more likely to remain patient and content with the paradoxes of 



C ONCL US ION. SI 9 

idealism than with the perplexities of realism. The weakness of re- 
alism has always been its alliance with dogmatism and its unwilling- 
ness to admit as frankly and as fully as it might the need of critical 
investigation into the jvidgments of the naive mind. Its strength lies 
in the escape from such scepticism as disturbs the practical judgment 
when it supposes that idealism really interferes with the integrity of 
convictions affecting conduct. Idealism, on the other hand, has both 
its strength and weakness in the scepticism which it fosters. Its 
strength lies in the capacity to question the dogmatic accuracy of 
" common sense," and its weakness in the appearance of denying the 
plain matters of fact, and so of confusing the practical maxims of life 
by statements that seem to dispense with the necessity of reckoning 
with an external world at all. But when it is found that the idealist 
regulates his actions on the same assumptions as the realist : that his 
theory only conceals a sceptical purpose under a more respectable 
name, and that it is mainly for philosophic parade, it will be seen 
that the real difference between the two schools of thought is little or 
nothing more than the distinction between the aristocratic and the 
democratic mind, the idealist being the former and the realist the latter. 
The philosophic distinction is only another form of the social chasm 
between those who do and those who do not correct their primitive 
ideas, intelligent criticism and scepticism being on the side of idealism 
and a tendency to faith and dogmatism on the side of realism. There 
is no other reason however, for the persistent hostility between the 
two modes of thought. 

It is in the ethical field that the general conception of idealism has 
the advantage, not as a sceptical doctrine, but as a name for the im- 
portance of ideals against subservience to sense experience. This is 
caused, not by the unquestioned truth of its epistemological theory, but 
by the good fortune that scepticism and idealism are embodied in the 
■same term : for there is no special connection between the critical scep- 
ticism of idealism against realism and ethical idealism, except that any 
reconstruction of ethics will involve attention to subjective considera- 
tions. Ideals, however, are quite compatible with the most naive real- 
ism of the epistemological type. Realism in this comparison comes to 
mean fact or things as they «re, and idealism the things as they ought to 
be. There is no necessary relation between these two points of view 
and the epistemological antitheses under the same terms. It has been 
usual, of course, to connect them by implication; to regard ethical 
realism as a logical consequence of the epistemological, and ethical 
idealism as the consequence of the epistemological. But I must con- 



5S0 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

sider this an illusion. I concede the fact of this historical association, 
which inevitably gives the meaning to the terms that this logical con- 
nection implies, and I might even go farther and concede that the rela- 
tion has many natural affiliations. But they are not of that sort which 
has a logical necessity, as one of them concerns hovj we " know" and 
the other the relative vahies of what we " know." The problem of 
epistemology is such that the opposition between the affirmation and 
denial of naVve conceptions of external reality does not imply a 
similar antithesis between facts and ideals, or what is and what ought 
to be. It must be reinembered also that the traditions and teaching of 
idealism link it with one notion of objective reality, though it abstracts 
from sense conceptions in the formation of that idea, and this fact of 
its relation to a supersensible reality shows that it has not Avholly es- 
caped the real which it is supposed to antagonize, and critical exami- 
nation of it will reveal the fact that it does not even escape the ugly 
features of that real which it appears so much to fear. Ethical ideal- 
ism may not require any objective reality at all. It may represent 
nothing more than a discrimination of values within the area of sub- 
jective experience, in which the higher culture of intelligence and 
conscience is sharply drawn off against the inferior phenomena of 
sense. But there is also nothing in this that necessarily antagonizes 
the boldest metaphysics of " common sense" realism, or the coarsest 
materialism. The temperate and rational habits of Epicurus are proof 
of this. It is the jiian that determines the ideal and not a metaphysical 
or epistemological theor}'. We may admire and obey all the higher 
"spiritual" ideals and impulses, but consider that they are mere at- 
tachments to a nucleus of matter and its functions. There is no philo- 
sophic monopoly of the influences that make for progress. Our theo- 
ries are after thoughts of our ideals to defend them and do not make 
them. Idealism is not the only shelter for metaphysics and morality; 
nor is realism unexposed to similar limitations. Both doctrines are 
good enough for a certain kind of logic chopping where we have once 
learned the abstractions that they embody, but they never ser\-e to 
make intelligible the rich content of life to any who have not experi- 
enced it in all its exuberance and fascinating wealth. They are rather 
mere devices for saving inexperienced minds from the trouble of think- 
ing. Inspiration and education cannot be produced by dialectic varia- 
tions upon refined abstractions like these. The full measure of experi- 
ence and contact with facts are the only resource for obtaining what 
philosophy, without any due sense of humor, has allowed to petrify into 
these mere fossils of truth. Skeletons mav be testlmonv to the exis- 



CONCLUSION. 5S1 

tence of life that once was, and only the genius of men like Agassiz or 
Cuvier can reproduce from such relics even an outline of the tissues and 
functions that played their drama there in the past, and in the same way 
it will require genius in literature to discover any evidence of former 
life in philosophic theories like idealism and realism. These are only 
names for dead issues, if they are made any more comprehensive than 
the necessity, one of them, for inoculating dogmatism with a healthy 
scepticism when this dogmatism attaches itself to realism, and the other, 
for tempering scepticism with a healthy faith in human faculty when it is 
tempted by extravagances in the field of idealism. But even to do this 
they must be in master hands. They will not effect it by any process 
of parotting philosophic phraseolog}', but only by living through all 
their details the facts which happen to get a concentrated form in 
these terms. 

For this reason I feel no temptations to share in the universal preju- 
dice of this age for declaring that, whatever one's philosophy may be, 
it shall be called idealistic. The nauseating habit of assuming that 
one 7nust make his peace with the complacent dogmatism of Kanto- 
Hegelian idealism by protesting that he appreciates it, when in fact he 
either does not understand it or must perforce attack it as an evidence 
of mental virility, is a spectacle that tempts one to rebellion, if only to 
save philosophy from stagnation in phraseology wholly unadapted to 
the wants of the age. If the fashion for realism were as prevalent and 
as dogmatic the same duty would exist as the condition of saving phi- 
losophy from another and perhaps more unintelligible scholasticism. 
Intellectual dry rot can be prevented only by liberal infusions from the 
spirit of contradiction, " der Geist der stets verneint." When phi- 
losophy can only mouth its doctrines in stereotyped phrases having no 
adaptability to changing experience, it can be appreciated only by 
those who have first been initiated and its influence does not extend 
beyond that inner circle. The value of abstractions to this body of the 
faithful for economy and abbreviation need not be disputed. Such 
economy and a technical mode of expression are needed in all the pro- 
founder work of the sciences, no matter how Inaccessible to the popu- 
lar mind. But science always contrives to explain Its meaning In the 
vernacular when It Is necessary to instruct the public. But vs^hatever 
defense philosophy may have for obscurity within the society of Its 
devotees, it is recreant to a wider duty \vhen it confines Its humane ob- 
jects to the few, especially In a democracy. In aristocratic civiliza- 
tions the demand on Its condescension is not so great. The citizens of 
such a society are among Its votaries, or at least Its intelligent auditors, 



583 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and the area of its influence and usefulness is correspondingly circum- 
scribed. The rest of the community is governed, not reasoned with. 
The general ideas that determine the thought and action of the whole 
are in possession of the rulers and they have the freedom to give them 
effectiveness, while the ruled are not asked or required to understand, 
but to obey. Their action is regulated by faith or fear, not by reason, 
and the duty of philosophy to construct does not extend beyond the few 
who hold the reins of power, except as it is at liberty to perform a 
work of grace to the many and strengthen the influences that limit the 
abuses of power. In aristocratic communities it requires only to 
moderate the temptations and licenses of authority by inculcating all 
those ideas that make for prudence, culture, and humanity, in the ex- 
ercise and application of it. But in democratic civilizations it is 
neither secure in its recognition nor equal to its responsibilities, if its 
oracles are obscure or unintelligible, since, as always, it must appeal 
to the rulers for effect and these are now the multitude. A wide area 
of influence is demanded of it. It has to persuade those whom an 
aristocratic society may govern. Science has condescended to do this 
while it preserves its technical work for the initiated. But if phi- 
losophy retires, as it seems to have done in our day, into the narrow 
circle of the few, it loses its power to control the trend of thought 
which governs and must govern a democratic people. Epistemology 
and technical metaphysics have neither interest nor influence for this 
class, unless adapted to the common understanding and the deepest in- 
terests affecting life and action. In such a state the whole field that 
was once the province of " divine philosophy" is turned over to litera- 
ture which never fails to make itself intelligible in plain speech or to 
eschew the language of mere dialectic and logic chopping when it en- 
deavors to convey its thoughts. Circumlocution and elasticity of style 
are better than technical shibboleths. Philosophy must condescend to 
make its idealism or realism accessible to the general consciousness, 
if it expects to survive in democratic times as a moral and spiritual 
leaven in the world. Its formula cannot stop with a scholastic confes- 
sion of faith, but must be explicable and intelligible in forms clear 
enough to determine the ideas that animate the common mind and 
v^'ill. Loss of place and influence will be the price paid for am- fail- 
ure to accomplish this result. Even Kant in his time had to complain 
that it was neglected, and it is much Avorse in this age, mainly because 
it has no message to mankind at large. It is more the function of 
philosophy than any other discipline, except literature, to cultivate 
adaptability to the intellectual and moral wants of man. It may be 



CONCLUSION. 5 S3 

accorded perfect liberty among its adepts for abbreviation and technical 
discussion, just as are chemistry and higher physics. But this is no 
reason why its oracles cannot be interpreted in the vernacular when 
the justification for its existence demands this. Its decline in the 
university life of modern democracy is the consequence of this failure 
to have a mission for the majority who do the governing. The fault, 
of course, may be as much in those wdio have to be taught as in those 
who teach. There may be no willingness to accept a philosophic 
gospel of any kind, and this is certainly the disposition of the present 
general public. But the philosopher may also have no gospel to teach, 
as seems to be the case since Kant who banished all interesting in- 
tellectual problems from legitimate speculation and reflection, leaving 
everlasting talk about " experience " and " consciousness " as the only 
subject left for the " queen of the sciences." The mission which it can 
perform depends partly upon its character and mostly upon the genu- 
inely human interests that pervade and inspire its work. It will re- 
main forever obscure and useless, unless it can touch the world's heart 
with some sympathy and its mind with some vision of general truth and 
duty. It cannot rely solely upon controversial dialectic dividing specu- 
lation into two sharply defined theories one of which is to be attacked 
and the other defended, with no reconstruction of truth within the 
reach of practical life. Unless it svicceeds in effecting this it will re- 
tain no place or function in a democratic civilization which has to be 
moved from within instead of from without. 

It is the tyrannical influence of our earlier and unreflective concep- 
tions upon our later development that is the primary source of all our 
trouble in philosophy, and the controversy between realism and ideal- 
ism is only one illustration of the feud that extends over the whole field 
of speculation regarding the cosmos. In ovfr earlier experience we 
make no attempt to give unity and consistency to our ideas. We take 
them as they come and ask no questions. The accident of a confusing 
and misunderstood situation may wholly distort what the larger experi- 
ence of the race has reduced to a common datum. Thus Locke and 
Berkeley changed the meaning of the term " idea" and confused the 
general drift of philosophic thought. Epicurus adopted the concept of 
" matter" for the permanent in the cosmos, while Plato had used it for 
the transient. And subsequent thought has followed the materialists 
in all their essential conceptions of it as a substance. The attempt to 
correct these distortions, after they have become fixed in our habits of 
thought, and when their inconsistency with the general view of lan- 
guage has been discovered, causes a wrench in our feelings, because the 



5S4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

relation between conceptions and language is so fixed by association that 
the stream of thought is a victim of it, and we can suppress its causal 
influence only by adopting terms that do not recall up a rejected idea 
against the truth that is wanted. We have to overcome the automatic 
habits of our first conceptions by the formation of others out of data 
which will not instigate the occurrence of the earlier series, and it 
often seems as if the attitude of opposition to the past was the only 
security against its domination. Our progress away from this past 
depends upon our ability to rescue our minds from the thralls of mere 
habit and the association of ideas. In many, perhaps most cases, this 
control can be effected only by changing the terms of our thought. 
Only a few can disenchant the old phrases of their illusions and trans- 
form them by transfiguration into the embodiment of new achieve- 
ments. It is this situation that always gives the charm to idealism. 
It is the mind's liberation from the naive possession of uncritical ideas. 
Realism is the natural conviction of the untrained soul, whether it 
rises or not to the dignity of a theory, and when it is necessary to cor- 
rect the aberrations of that stage of culture, it is not easv to give the 
earlier ideas and their expression the color and tone of a new rapture. 
The discovery that our minds are as important agencies in thought 
and action as the real world, especially when we have to conquer the 
latter for our own ends, and the enthusiasm which the disco verv 
awakens mav naturally enough obscure the truth of realism for the 
moment while we emphasize the functions of thought in culture and 
achievement. But the time comes \vhen idealism also gets so far 
aw'ay from reality that its dreaming can be checked only by a return 
to objective facts. 

There is a feature in common between epistemological and ethical 
idealism which was passed by in the consideration of their points of 
difference and indifference. It is the fact that thev both represent the 
subjective or psychological point of view in the studv of the world. 
They are both anthropocentric as opposed to the cosmocentric position 
for estimating experience. The cosmocentric represented the domi- 
nant tendency of Greek thought a^nd generally affiliates most easily 
with what passes for realism. The anthropocentric point of view is 
the modern and to some extent the Christian position. The Greek 
felt himself under the restraints of a remorseless power that he could 
not love and was reluctantly forced to obey. He was always sighing 
for a freedom that he could not possess and had not the courage to 
extort. The contemplative life \vas his paradise, whether in his 
mythology he placed it in the past of man, or in his philosophv he 



C ONCL US ION. 5 S 5 

placed it in the life of the gods. Exemption from toil and pain was 
his principal desire and the fear of the inexorable power of fate kept 
him either perpetually complaining against nature or cultivating the 
virtues of a Stoic as a refuge from despair and as affording him his 
only hope of meriting the character of a soldier and a man. He 
dreaded power that resti'ained him, and he could not learn, as in the 
prayer of Cleanthes, to reverence it for any binignities, but bestowed 
upon it a resigned and melancholy respect. The ugly spectre of fact 
was simply the consciousness of an unbending law that gave him no 
room for the play of freedom. His love of the aristocratic and con- 
templative life kept him crying for a free bounty from the universe, 
and work to win his blessings only appeared to offend the dignity of 
his nature. It took a democratic civilization to supplant the contem- 
plative by the active life, though this does not always clear away the 
realistic sense of nature's power to make submission a disagreeable 
virtue. It only equalizes the struggle while it offers less stimulus to 
rise above it. But the oppression of external restraint upon a beauty- 
loving Greek, also more passionately desirous of freedom than any 
modern man, and as fond of nature as he was conscious of its limita- 
tions and forbidding aspects, could only foster that temper of mind 
which lies between defiance and obedience, a condition which is partly 
pathos, partly courage and partly despair, and uncolored by any of the 
features of hope and faith. The revolt against mythologv had carried 
away every vestige of the human in the cosmos, and it required Chris- 
tianity to restore it in any form whatever. But to the Greek there was 
no hope of gaining anything by a struggle against nature, though a 
resigned obedience might lessen the pain he feared and win as much 
virtue as was possible in a condition of slavery. 

But idealism, which turns the mind away from the tyranny of 
nature to the confidence of man in his own power to fix limits to the 
restraints about him, to conqvier nature while he obevs it, puts a new 
face on things. Man discovers by it what is in himself to produce the 
very results which, in his lazier moods, he asks as an unearned bounty 
of providence. The attention is turned from the outer world of in- 
flexible power to the inner world of consciousness and the freedom of 
the will to turn nature to account as well as to practice submission. 
Man can thus come to respect himself, ^vhether he does nature or not, 
and to secure his happiness bv conquest instead of by mere good for- 
tune. Ethical idealism is hardly possible until consciousness is turned 
upon itself and finds there the will and the way to overcome all ex- 
ternal obstacles and to make cosmic law serve his own ends. What 



586 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY, 

ought to be can hardly be the result of idle looking at things. The 
spectator of the cosmos can only enjoy what it casually brings him. 
The man of action may force it to serve him. The consciousness of 
one's power to make his fortune is the revelation of introspection and 
the victory is the fruit of courage to triumph over the influences that 
tend to despair or that repress self-confidence. Idealism thus, in so far 
as it gives a man command of himself and discovers a freedom which 
he does not dream of securing in his habit of passive obedience to in- 
exorable laws, shows that happiness is made, not found, and to that 
extent marks both a superiority and an advance on that realism which 
is content to be the slave of circumstance. Idealism may be subject to 
abuse like all other impulses that originate in weak human nature. It 
may be followed by pride and rebelliousness where humility and resig- 
nation were the characteristics before. But whatever restraints expe- 
rience may put upon its aspirations, it is the first step in man's dis- 
covery of his superiority over nature and of his prospect for liberation, 
while realism is the check that would keep Icarus from losing his 
wings in an inglorious flight toward the sun and away from the earth, 

Denn mit Gdttern For with the gods 

Soil sich nicht messen Should no man 

Irgend ein Mensch. Measure himself. 

Hebt er sich aufwarts If he reach upward 

Und beriihrt And touches the stars 

Mie dem Scheitel die Sterne, With his high head, 

Nirgends haften dann Never will he fix 

Die unsichern Sohlen, His insecure feet, 

Und mit ihm spielen And with him will plaj 

Wolken und Winde. The clouds and the winds. 

Steht er mit festen Stands he with fixed 

Markigen Knochen Bold and firm foot 

Auf der wohlgegriindeten On the well based 

Dauerenden Erde, Solid old earth, 

Reicht er nicht auf, Reaches not upward, 

Nur mit der Eiche Only with the oak 

Oder der Rebe Or the weak vine 

Sich zu vergleichen. Himself to compare. 

In the epistemological field idealism performs the service which 
scepticism must always give to progress. It disturbs the equanimity 
of indolent and unprogressive temperaments and offers a rational ex- 
cuse for ignoring tradition and prejudice. It is not often that scepti- 
cism can receive any credit for merit equal to that of faith, but it de- 
serves this consideration and the fact should not be ignored. It will, 
of course, not be respected by those who are afraid of change and. 



CONCLUSION. 587 

progressive development. But when history comes to cast up its ac- 
counts, scepticism will have a place assigned it in the moral salvation 
of the race, if it does nothing more than to clear man of his illusions. 
Though it may not supply or prove any positive doctrine, it is an effec- 
tive solvent of all the dogmatisms that base themselves upon an uncritical 
confidence in ovir sense perceptions. But the fundamental weakness 
of idealism as a system of scepticism resting on the phenomenal limits 
of knowledge is that it expects to draw positive conclusions from these 
limitations. This can not be done. Conclusions are an extension of 
knowledge when they are fruitful of positive results, never a curtail- 
ment of it. Scepticism clips the wings of fancy and holds reason to 
experience, and where idealism coincides with the sceptical limitations 
of knowledge, without allowing for any elasticity and progress in the 
data of it, and without admitting some affiliation with the postulates 
of realism, it forfeits the right to suggest any " spiritual" reconstruc- 
tion of the universe. It csn only play the part of an iconoclast 
against dogmatism and overconfidence in naive views of things. But 
until it makes its peace with the fundamental assumptions of realism, 
which it is too ready to treat as a mortal enemy, it can offer no gospel 
but doubt to either metaphysics or religion, though the men that adopt 
its position may still show allegiance to ethical and aesthetic inspira- 
tion for ideals reaching beyond the pleasures of sense. But the idealist 
can effect even this much only by abandoning mere logical play and 
dogmas quite as absurd and unintelligible as the quidities of scholastic 
theology, even though their hidden meaning be true, and making its 
message as clear and concrete as the facts on which it rests, imbue the 
general consciousness that rules a democracy with some realizable 
ideal which can have the scientific strength of a philosophy and the 
motive power of a religion. Instead of this those who might be the 
oracles of truth are hunting about the cerements of Kant and Hegel 
for life. 

Dwellers in dreamland, 

Drinking delusion 

Out of the empty 

Skull of the past. 

Whatever philosophy we have must be the product of science, if I 
may distinguish between them for the moment, whether we choose to 
call it idealism or realism or both or neither. We shall not discover 
it in the perpetual exposition of past systems any more than religion 
will find its truth in tradition and mythology. It is a perpetual con- 
struction of present experience, incorporating only so much of the past 



5^8 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

as is perennial and recasting the formulas that gather about them, like 
a ship its barnacles, the growths of false interpretation and associ- 
ation. The days of a priori speculation are gone, not because it is 
wholly false or useless, but because we have adopted a standard of 
truth which places more value on inductive than upon deductive 
methods and because the limits of a priori speculation are so quickly 
reached that the only hope for further progress lies in experience with 
its discovery of the data for whatever extension of knowledge is pos- 
sible. The mistake of the Kantian lies in placing so much stress upon 
the necessity of a priori truth of some kind that can never be more 
than abstract and in emphasizing so much the limits of knowledge to 
experience that he creates the impression that experience has as de- 
cided limits for its matter, that is, its facts, as it has for its form, 
namely, the sensory mode of obtaining it. It is not the fori7i but the 
content or matter of knowledge that has the chief interest for man. 
The idealist should remember that their great protagonist recognized 
that experience had a content as well as a "form" and that he did not 
definitely indicate any limits to this content but only to the "form" 
which it should take, though he was silent on the actual elasticity of 
this content. Now i"f the matter of experience have no limits but those 
of the actual facts up to date, what is there to prevent the accumula- 
tion of data that will necessitate more than can be deduced from the 
formal conditions of experience or from any previous experience not 
implicating this new resvdt.^ It is in this discovery of new data that 
science does its work and supplies both the motive and the matter for all 
philosophy except dogmatism and tradition. Our progress lies more 
in the way we conceive the truth than it does in the formulas for em- 
bodying it, and hence in the experience that makes abstractions intel- 
ligible rather than in the verbal consistency of our present with the 
past. There is a great value in having truths that survive revolution- 
ary change, and such truths are easily stated and understood, but it is 
not so easy to adapt the changes of time and progress to them, a pro- 
cedure extremely necessarv in order to utilize what is permanent in 
practical life. Philosophy must therefore be the expression of the 
general results of knowledge in each age with the increments that have 
been won bv new discoverv. An idealism or realism that cannot ex- 
tend its meaning to these new conditions and wants is destined to 
perish in the bogs of illusion and obscurity. 

The same general attitude that has been shown toward the contro- 
versv between idealism and realism can be taken in regard to that be- 
tween spiritualism and materialism. The reader may have observed 



C ONCL US I ON. 5 S9 

that I did not conclude the chapters on these two metaphysical theories 
with any decisive verdict for or against either of them. Thei"e were 
several reasons for this reservation. They all grow, however, out of 
one fact. This is the circumstance that there is no human interest in 
the controversy between the two theories except the question of sur- 
vival after death. The difficulties of any assured conviction on this 
issue creates indifference to the merely scientific or philosophic prob- 
lem that may not guarantee or exclude survival. Besides the question 
of the existence of a soul has been so complicated with assumptions 
about its nature that the matter of its survival, in addition to doubts 
from the want of evidence, is affected by all the doubts connected with 
the problem of the soul's nature which might not guarantee survival 
of personal identity when that nature was decided. This means that 
there are always two problems before investigation ; the one concerns 
the existence of a subject other than the brain to explain conscious- 
ness, and the other concerns the persistence of this personal conscious- 
ness after the dissolution of the bodily organism. This situation 
makes it prudent not to press a conclusion too urgently until the one 
question is separated from the other, and as the decisive settlement of 
it cannot be determined short of the proof of survival, which mere 
philosophy cannot supply, the only proper course in philosophic dis- 
cussion is to leave the issue where that method must leave it, nainely, 
in the balance between argvunents whose value is dependent wholly 
upon the discovery of facts to give them cogency and conclusiveness. 
Morever, from what has been said about " matter" and "spirit" 
in the discussion about materialism and spiritualism, and in the chapter 
on the existence of God, it ought to be apparent that I have no such 
animosities toward materialism as would lead me to neglect the force 
of the facts in its favor, and no such allegiance to the term "spirit" 
or spiritualism as would lead me to expect any better salvation from a 
bad philosophy than I might get from " matter." We cannot presume 
that one of the theories shall be defended and then seek for the evi- 
dence without also admitting the difliculties on either side of the issue. 
Apart from that conception of " matter" which is formed from its sen- 
sible manifestations and the test of it by gravity, there is no reason for 
using the term "spirit" even when we have demonstrated that the 
brain cannot explain consciousness. In its widest import the concep- 
tion of matter has been so refined and the capacities represented by it 
have been so extended beyond anything supposed by ancient materi- 
alism, that there can be no objection to assuming, so far as mere scien- 
tific explanation is concerned, that the subject of consciousness is the 



SgO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

brain, if the evidence justifies it, or that it is some form of refined 
" matter" or ether, if the evidence is against the organism. In fact, 
the term " matter" is so abstract that it is useless for any purposes that 
could not as well be served by any other conception, except that 
"matter," with its associations, can best perpetuate the scientific 
spirit and a rational continuity with the past saner efforts of man to 
understand the universe. But in so far as metaphysics and science are 
concerned, it makes no difference whether we adopt materialism or 
spiritualism, unless we mean to declare an attitude on the immortality of 
the soul. On the one hand, the spiritualist has so long insisted that the 
"soul" is spaceless and has kept philosophy thereby in such an im- 
possible world for science and " common sense," that it would be easy 
to lead a revolt to the Epicurean conception of it with our ethereal con- 
ception of matter before us, and so leave to the problem of evidence 
the solution of its survival and not the question of what the soul 
shall be called. On the other hand, the materialist, not disguising 
from himself the absence of evidence for either survival, as he esti- 
mated this evidence, or for any subject but the organism, has not ob- 
served the process of extension and refinement that have gone on in his 
conception of matter until it might make a good substitute for 
"spirit." The only thing that has remained untouched by change is 
the opposition between the two schools on the question of immortality 
or survival of death. On that question the materialist has shown most 
of the science and most of the courage, and the spiritualist most of the 
sentiment and most of the fear. They have divided intolerance of each 
other about equally between them. But on the mere metaphysical 
question as to the nature of the mental subject, ^vhen it is agreed that 
it is not the organism, there is no longer any but reasons of association 
for using the term "spirit" at all. All the problems of philosoph}- 
and religion can be solved by the proper use of the term " matter." 
The only objection to this position is the obstinacy of the materialist, 
who does not often examine his conceptions critically and who, in spite 
of his changes in the idea of " matter," still passionately insists that 
his doctrine is the same as ever, when it is only in the psychological 
field that this consistency remains, and even this onh- in that concep- 
tion of the problem which denies a future life for consciousness. But 
apart from this question of fact, or of facts that necessitate the assump- 
tion, there are none but verbal and associative reasons for continuing 
the antithesis between the conceptions of " matter" and " spirit." 

The real opposition between materialism and spiritualism turns on 
a matter of fact and not of metaphysics. It was, of course, originally a 



C ONCL US ION. 5 9 1 

resort to metaphysics by both parties to prove a real or supposed fact in 
regard to survival, but the rise of scientific method discredited a priori 
metaphysics as a means of proving any future facts M^hatever, except 
hypothetically on the same conditions, and left philosophy only the 
power to systematize the know^ledge we have and not to predict the 
future on any other grounds than present experience of facts that justify 
it. Science drew clearly the distinction between the evidential problem 
in regard to a future life and the metaphysical problem of identical or 
different subjects for physical and mental events. Both problems may 
be treated evidentially, as they must be, but the evidence in each case, 
if it is to have the most effective cogency, and if it goes beyond support- 
ing a mere possibility for independent subjects, must be of a different 
kind in each case, the conclusion, apart from the actual isolation of an 
individual consciousness from the organism, being fairly well balanced 
between the two views, while any conclusion in favor of an immaterial 
subject for consciousness would leave \vholly undecided the question of 
personal survival after death. All this shows that there is no adequate 
reason for passionate controversy between the two schools on the 
metaphysical, but only on the religious question of fact. The passions 
associated with this belief in a future life could well attach themselves 
to the metaphysical theories, as long as they were the only means of 
arriving at the desired conclusion. But when the problem became a 
matter of fact distinct from the mere existence of a transcerebral subject 
for consciousness, to be settled either before the metaphysical question 
could be answered or as a condition of any metaphysics other than 
materialism in some sense of that term, the continuance of the philo- 
sophic controversy was an anachronism and had no excuse except that 
of intellectual inertia or the desire to evade new issues, or the old issue 
in a new form. For the problem of immortality is perennial, persisting 
with every change of intellectual development, and divides human nature 
far more deeply in respect of temperament than in argument. These 
temperaments may be called the emotional and the scientific. The one 
will not surrender and the other does not appai'ently need the belief. 
Their relation to the doctrine and the various interests in life as affected 
by it needs a careful analysis. 

The belief in immortality has always been more of a passion than a 
philosophy. There have been attempts enough to give it a philosophic 
status, but only when this method was considered the criterion of truth. 
The influences which have kept it alive have in reality been stronger 
than any philosophy. The belief originates in impulses which make 
the doctrine one of immeasurable tenacity and also one of great power 



59^ THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

whether for good or ill, because it lends itself so easily to the imagi- 
nation for coloring it with whatever ideals our caprices may form, as 
both ancient and mediteval conceptions abundantly prove. It may arise 
from either of two instincts ; from the personal desire to live and pro- 
long the pleasures of existence, or from the philanthropic and social in- 
fluences that center in human sympathy and love. The one is purely 
egoistic and the other is altruistic. These influences may even be 
variously mixed according to the character of the individual. But 
neither of them, though it keeps the passion alive, is anything like a 
scientific or philosophic argument, but only a moral force to be reck- 
oned with in the adjustment of our attitude toward others. One of 
them, the egoistic, is exposed to all the immoralities which a purely 
personal interest in life can inflict upon freedom of thought, and the 
other, the altruistic, to all the sentimentalities that concentrate about 
fine characters which often have less vigor than the struggle for exist- 
ence requires. The belief has not been an unmixed good. It did not 
save the middle ages from the most frightful orgies : in fact, it might 
be said to have been the primary cause of those religious persecutions 
which rivalled the most sanguinary cruelties of savage life. The trac- 
ing of the belief to the most gentle and divine of beings was not sufli- 
cient to restrain the most extraordinary passion for inflicting pain. 
No intolerance was too intense for its hatred of scepticism and liberty 
of thought and w^orship. As if the tortures for eternity in a marl 
of burning sulphur were not enough for the failure to assent to false 
propositions, men must needs add the same tortures to the present life 
on the pretext of saving a man's soul against his own will and power 
which were taught by a doctrine of predestination to be helpless ! Xo 
doubt there were often other and associated influences at work, but 
the saving of the soul was the pretext for the policy of the state and 
the church, and ordinary history sees no other influence to record than 
the sacrifice of humanity for a belief without scientific or otherwise 
adequate credentials. Its beneficial effect on the race can be secured 
onl}' when it is tempered by the morality which is founded on the 
brotherhood of man and which is indifferent to the personal interest 
of the man who feels that brotherhood. This would indicate that 
common terrestrial morality is the most important impulse of the two 
and the condition of the other having anv value at all for life. I do 
not deny its moral value for the man whose humanitv is the first im- 
pulse of his nature. But he is in no need of science or philosophy to 
awaken his moral instincts or to support a belief that gets all its beauty 
from the worth of virtue in a world where its achievement is not 



CONCLUSION. 593 

always the effect but the cause of a belief in a future life. It gives 
the moral and humane man power to arouse higher ideals in others, but 
it does not insure the strength to realize them. It is not the mere 
belief in survival that can guarantee morality, but the kind of existence 
offered us with a conception of the relation between the present and 
the future. This is apparent in the whole history of philosophic and 
religious thought on the subject. Hence while I do not deny immense 
capacities for good in the doctrine of immortality these are subject to 
qualification, and I doubt whether we have in history, when taken 
alone and apart from moral ideals not always created by it, any satis- 
factory evidence of its beneficial influence on conduct. Most men and 
women, as we can see in the history of the church, regulate their lives 
by impulses that they regard as natural and seek to form that concep- 
tion of the future which these impulses suggest. The chief impor- 
tance of the belief lies in its support of the relative values that our 
moral and intellectual development place upon consciousness and mat- 
ter. But the personal equation and the selfish motives which deter- 
mine or may determine our present lives may always associate coward- 
ice and weakness with the belief. This is specially true of large classes 
of believers. But the scientific man, whatever his defects of motive 
and character, has a healthier courage and judgment. He may feel 
for man and he may not like the ugly order of nature and suffering 
any more than the religious mind, but he takes an impersonal view of 
the case, will not " cry over spilled milk," or go about like a puling 
child because he cannot obtain from nature all he would like. He 
grimly faces facts and whatever bargain has been made for him with 
the universe he keeps faithfully and without resentment. He may 
sometimes or often display none of those humane interests which are 
better than science or knowledge : he may be ambitious for fame or 
social standing, and may trample remorsely upon those feelings 
in fine natures whose moral sympathy wath man is stronger than 
the intellect or the will to face ugly facts. But he is not troubled 
with the circumstance that he cannot have his own way with 
nature, though this spirit may be as bad as it can be good. He 
swallows his pride and emotions, strengthens his will, and trusts his 
conscience, where he has these qualities, while he pursues farther 
inquiries to wrest from the universe its secrets which, whether in- 
tended for good or not by the investigator, may result in the welfare 
of the human race without regard to the question whether this result 
is for present human culture or for advantage to an indefinite life 
beyond the grave. 

38 



594 ^^^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Mit gier' ger Hand nach Schatzen griibt, 
Und froh ist wenn er Regenwiirmer findet. 

The stoical spirit will ''hunt after treasures, but will be content if 
it finds only earthworms." 

There is an important weakness in the position of many believers 
in immortality which ought to be noticed. There is a ^\•ide tendency 
to come to the belief on one ground and to defend it on another. The 
influence which makes our arguments respectable is determined by the 
spirit of the age rather than by the actual basis on which they rest. 
We may actually accept a doctrine on faith and attempt to sustain it 
on reason, or we may allow our general view of the cosmos and its 
rationality to decide the matter for vis against pessimistic beliefs, if it 
cannot be regarded as rational, and then resort to something else to 
sustain our contention. There is no objection to reliance on faith or 
emotional considerations, if we do not pretend to give them a weight 
and cogency which they do not possess. They can have no more 
power than the slightest inductions based upon nothing more than our 
feeling that the cosmos has no rational meaning to us without the be- 
lief. If we state it so, and adopt no policy of intolerance toward 
those who either do not feel this view or demand stronger credentials 
for belief, there can be criticism of this attitude. But scientific and 
philosophic arguments, where accessible, may be, and I think are, the 
proper means of assuring conviction in this age when the standard of 
belief is so high on all questions. But there is no use to convince 
ourselves even with these unless they have all the power claimed for 
them. It is the real or boasted merit of the rational philosopher that 
he subordinates his beliefs and the degree of tenacity with which he 
holds to them to the character of his logic and facts, and will not allow 
erroneous reasoning to prove what is in fact a mere general moral 
judgment accompanied by various emotions. As I have already indi- 
cated, the belief or the hope of survival, where it tends to have any 
general tenacity at all, and is not a mere personal wish to live, is a re- 
flex of a pure and lofty moral nature, assuming that it has no other 
credentials. I do not deny this influence a certain worth, perhaps 
of much importance, thovigh the right to persist in it is subordinate 
to philosophic and scientific considerations. What gives it the weight 
that I concede will be remarked after indicating why I do not attach 
much weight to the moral argument of Kant in favor of immortality. 
This was based upon the disparity between virtue and happiness in 
the present life. Duty demanded, thought Kant, more than it was 
possible for man to realize in the present, and the natural relation be- 



C ONCL US ION. 595 

tween virtue and happiness, its proper reward, being unrealized in the 
present, required a future life to effect it. I concede at least some 
plausibility to this argument as reflected in the consciousness that a 
rational world demands such a relation between virtue and happiness. 
But Kant assumes what his philosophy does not provide but rather 
discredits, namely, the rational nature of the world. But the fact may 
be that the world has no other rationality than that which favors the 
conquest of happiness by virtue in the present order and not complain- 
ing if we do not win. Kant was too much influenced in his judgment 
of the argument by the conceptions of rewards and punishments enter- 
tained at his time in relation to a whole system of alleged virtues 
which, in fact, have no such importance as was claimed for them. 
The connection between virtue and happiness, as conceived at that 
time, was infected with the artificiality of the theological temper of the 
age and there was less room to recognize both the true ethical ideas 
and the consequent natural relation ^vhich should exist between the 
two things named. Kant inevitably exaggerates the disparity between 
them by implying that there is more virtue and less happiness in actual 
life than may be the fact. We need to estimate the relation between 
conduct and consequences in the present world less from the point of 
view of rewards and punishments and more from that of natural causes 
and effects, recognizing that often the result is the same for a mistake 
as for a sin. This paradox in the system may be due only to the fal- 
sity of much of our ethics. Many of our assumed duties are merely 
social and conventional, not cosmic affairs, while many of the cosmic 
pertain, so far as we know, only to the conditions of the incarnate life. 
In social and conventional mattei's rewards and punishments have to 
be more or less artificial, and in cosmic matters they are natural con- 
sequences of action. In our conceptions of ethics the two types of 
facts become confused and many of our moral inequalities of which 
we complain are due to this confusion. When the one type is distin- 
guished from the other there may remain the mistakes and their con- 
sequences as difficulties in the way of supposing nature rational, but 
this would only shut Kant out of expecting things any better in another 
existence under the same general governance. It is useless for him to 
put the rational connection in the next life, if he expects us to accept 
that as any better accredited than the present. If the rationality of the 
present life is discredited by the inequality between merit and deserts 
there is no reason in experience, which was Kant's standard for meas- 
uring truth, for supposing that the next will be any more rational 
than this one. The next might be better, but we could hardly ex- 



596 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

pect it to be framed on any radically different ^^rinciples than the 
present. 

I am quite willing to admit that there are inequalities in the present 
life that need righting, according to standards of ethics not conven- 
tional, but I do not see that their existence is an evidence of a future 
life to i-ight them, as this assumes that the cosmos is more rational than 
we have any evidence in experience to believe. I rather think that 
Kant did not analyze and state the moral argument correctly. I do not 
think that it should be based upon the inequalities between virtue and 
happiness, but on the inequalities between the moral law and natural 
law, that is, between what we are compelled to value and what nature 
actually seems to value. We are obliged by our very nature to place 
consciousness, involving intelligence and morality, above mere matter 
in our action toward progress. Every achievement w-hich we insist 
upon as necessary to any and all progress is conditioned by conscious- 
ness in some way, or the phenomena of consciousness are those which 
we wish to keep persistent. That is to say, we estimate the existence 
of consciousness and its achievements in intelligence and morality as 
superior to matter and its phenomena, and we have to do this if we make 
any progress. Now we also estimate the permanent more highly than 
the transient. We depend upon it for our development. Ever since 
Plato it has been the permanent that has taken the most important 
place in ethical values. As we place consciousness above mere ma- 
terial facts in its character and importance we must naturally ask 
whether there is any tendency for this fact to persist in the order of 
things in the form which gives it a personally ethical value. We 
observe that matter is eternal. The doctrine of the conservation of 
energy shows that matter is permanent, and if nature does not confer 
an equal boon upon personal consciousness it adopts a policy in favor 
of the facts which our own progress imperatively depreciates in com- 
parison with those it must estimate most highly. Nature seems more 
careless of consciousness than of matter. What is highest in our 
moral nature in the present life is apparently held in an inferior esti- 
mation by the cosmos. This situation is a fact showing one half of 
the present order quite rational and the other half just as irrational. 
If a future life be a fact then the whole system appears rational, at 
least in the fact of its preserving consciousness as well as matter. The 
discrimination which the moral law makes shows that the present sys- 
tem is not wholly irrational, but its rationality would seem to be very 
imperfect, or such as it had would be rendered nugator}-, if personal 
consciousness were not granted an equal rank with matter in the proc- 



CONCLUSION. 597 

ess of conservation. We have to adjust our conduct to the law and 
order of nature, and if that order does not make consciousness w^ith in- 
telligence, emotion and morality permanent we can hardly be blamed 
if we regulate our actions according to material considerations 
which are the only ones presumably respected by the cosmos. These 
do not prevent prudence in conduct of an hedonistic type, but they do 
show that there is no necessity of reckoning with a future spiritual life, 
if it is not to be. A materialistic life is always the natural, the logical, 
and the necessary consequence of a materialistic philosophy in the long 
run. If nature does not respect consciousness as much as matter, we 
have only the present to take account of and this alone will permit 
actions that a future life would not, at least from the point of view of 
knowledge. It is just this condition of the case that gives Kant's 
moral argument its force, and not the question of rewai'ds and penal- 
ties. It would not be felt where the moral nature has not once and 
fully felt the moral law which simply demands that the cosmos be 
made as rational throughout as the present and as the ideals which it 
creates suggest as possible. This is why the natural reflex of a fine 
moral nature is always on the side of hope and faith, if it can free 
itself from those conceptions of such a life which have both weakened 
the belief and depreciated its value. 

It will be seen then that, with all the difficulties, weaknesses, 
doubts and limitations, the belief in a future life has its importance. 
Or rather the credible and proved fact of survival would have much 
importance for civilization in that stage in which its ideals require this 
additional motive to give them the power they need and which would 
lose their imperativeness, if the doctrine were displaced. No doubt 
we should be stronger if we could respect the moral law without this 
faith, but the majority of the race can look at life with more encourage- 
ment if they know that their highest duties and ideals are as much re- 
spected by the order of the world as they feel for them. The value 
that is placed on personality in comparison with matter must suggest 
the desirability that the more ideal of the two should be preserved so 
that duty and the realization of its object should coincide, not so much 
as a concession to the idea of reward as to that of a rational consequence 
of the relative value that we must place upon personality and matter. 
Any man who has a moral ideal involving the highest development of 
consciousness, whatever he may think about the evidence for survival, 
must frankly recognize the desirability of it in its ideal form and the 
different view of man's relation to the universe which it would indi- 
cate. It is all very fine to put on a brave face and say we do not care 



59S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

for it, when about the only reason we have for assuming such an air of 
courage and bravado is the fact that we have to confess the want of 
evidence for it. We all like to appear indifferent w^hen there is no 
hope. Self-control is a most important duty and so is resignation, but 
this fact is no reason for pretending to hold that survival is not de- 
sirable, if it is not a degenerated condition. Healthy natures will not 
whimper under disappointment, but will endeavor to make the best of 
a bad bargain. But in spite of the necessity for being strong in such 
circumstances and contenting one's self with morality and the absence 
of hope, there is not a serious sceptic that would not frankly admit that 
such a fact as survival from death, assuming that it carried with it any 
sanity of mental condition, would change man's attitude toward the 
cosmos and represent its order in a more favorable light than materi- 
alism. Respectability may have more to do with making us stoics 
than real virtue. Courage is a safe quality when cow^ardice suffers all 
the pains and runs as many risks as bravery. Hence there is no use 
to pretend moral indifference to the question when sound judgment 
must concede that, hypothetical ly at least, survival after death would 
put a more ideal construction on the policy of nature or Providence 
than annihilation, assuming that life of any kind has any value. We 
might find it necessary to give up hope, no matter what we thought of 
the case, but the necessity of being brave is not a reason for denving 
the moral value of the doctrine under proper conditions, even though 
it is only the result of the morality which it in turn encourages and 
perpetuates. Pretence of not being interested in it because we cannot 
prove it, though it would color the existence of morality with a fine 
stimulus, is no better than a passionate desire for it. It looks and 
sounds heroic to plead for stout and brave hearts, but that language 
and the mood it represents only masks the very value which I am con- 
tending for, and if we cannot be stoical without tacitly confessing the 
desirability of what v^^e cannot get, it might be a higher virtue to avoid 
hypocrisy in the matter. Man may easily forget the fable of the fox 
and the grapes when he talks about immortality while he shows a pas- 
sionate selfishness in the pursuit of wealth, fame, social eclat, respec- 
tability and freedom from toil, and neglects all the human sympathies 
that might redeem the present life from many of the features that induce 
the sceptic to impeach nature. Scientific reputation is not a protection 
against selfish impulses, even when it enforces allegiance to facts 
against what seems to be a human interest. Obedience to logic and 
fact is a duty as well as a necessitv when it comes to the inevitable, but 
this does not involve any necessity or obligation to pretend that the 



co.\ci.usjOiv. 599 

universe is better without than with the preservation of personality and 
the best ideals that ever influenced human action. 

It is easy, however, to abuse the belief, as I have already indicated. 
Christian thought was a complete reaction upon the despair of Greek 
life. Greek ethics were wholly secular and not religious. In fact, 
after the decline of mythology, the ideals of Greek civilization were 
wholly Eesthetic and political, never of the religious type that regulated 
the present solely for the future life of the soul. Christian thought 
placed the central point of human interest in another world after 
death. As a consequence it neglected the present life, except so far as 
it was a means for the next. The two types of thought were just the 
opposite of each other, the one sacrificed the future life to the present 
and the other the present life to the future. Scepticism and material- 
ism, however, have weakened the faith in immortality and left only 
the social aims of Christianity to take its place. There has been an 
unquestioned need for this development in order to balance morality 
against the abuses of a belief that had formed more definite concep- 
tions of the hereafter than any facts justified and made it necessary for 
healthy minds to cultivate virtue without a too insistent expectation of 
other reward. The reaction against " other ^vorldliness " was a neces- 
sity to secure proper attention to our natural duties which are pi^i- 
marily in the present life, even if they are in any way related to the 
future. The value of the belief in survival depends not so much upon 
the future considered as the aim of the present as it does upon the con- 
duct of the present with the future as a consequence. The duty is not 
so much to work for the future as to work for the highest ideals of the 
present with the prospect of the future, if that has any credentials, and 
to rest satisfied if it has not the sufficient evidence in its support. 

In concluding the chapter on the existence of God I deferred some 
observations on that problem until they could be made here. I had in 
mind some remarks on the passions that cling so tenaciously to mere 
formulas about God. In trying to smooth the way for a reconciliation^ 
between science and religion on the question of the divine existence, I 
pointed out that the conception of matter had become so refined that it 
might easily be substituted for God, in so far as philosophic use and 
conception are concerned. But the religious mind will not easily ac- 
cept the suggestion of any such substitution. The name of God to it 
is hallowed by too many associations with the highest ideals of person- 
ality and the aspirations of man to divest it safely of its power to in- 
voke respect, fear and reverence, as its identification with matter would 
appear to do, its associations being free from all spiritual flavor. It is 



6oo THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

true that it has not been the same in all ages, and never assumes 
more than what man himself has achieved in his development, al- 
ways reflecting his best, and sometimes with it the worst that afflicts 
his nature. The Greek gods embodied all the moral defects of that 
civilization and differed from the Greek himself only in the superiority 
of their power and the force of their passions. The Judaistic and 
Christian conceptions of God were as various as the stages of their de- 
velopment, now cruel and merciless and again tender and righteous. 
In the middle ages the name was not sufficient to restrain any impulse 
except humanity. In fact the conception of God was best represented 
by the dire cruelty which he was said to visit upon his creatures if they 
did not assent to certain unbelievable propositions. The doctrine of 
eternal punishment, embodied in the idea of the most frightful tortures 
and pictured with unrivalled savagery in Dante's Inferno, and supple- 
mented by a theory of arbitrary grace and predestination discriminat- 
ing between the saved and the lost without any regard to free will, 
holds up to our vision as ugly a spectre of inhuman and immoral 
power as ever darkened the judgment of man. I know^ that among 
the finer intellects, even in the interpretation of these doctrines, there 
was a spirit that moderated their repugnance and tempered them to 
more approved ways and means, while here and there noble minds 
kept alive the spark of humanity and justice until better times. But 
the superficial character of mediaeval history, its savagery in war and 
politics, together with its idea of the terrible retribution for sins that 
deserved more pity than punishment, that is to say, the annals of the 
past and the prospects it held out for the future, require us to go very 
deeply if the conception of God entertained by them could shed any 
lustre upon either history or hope. The fact that we find the concep- 
tion purified by the progress of man and tending to represent the best 
moral achievements and ideals of his development shows here as in 
the question of immortality that it is the prior moralization of man 
that moralizes and idealizes his conception of God. " Blessed are the 
pure in heart, for they shall see God." Hence the primary matter 
is not a theistic theory, nor an atheistic, but a pure heart which will 
affect our view of the universe, whether we regard it as good or bad, 
and our actions wall be determined by wdiat is within more nobly than 
by what is without. It is not every man who says God that shall be 
saved, but he that doeth what a true ideal makes imperative. The in- 
tolerant demand that a man must believe in the existence of God, in 
the sense in which it has so long been represented as a condition of 
being moral or religious, simplv mistakes the order of nature and indi- 



CONCLUSION. 60 1 

cates the last refuge of the spirit of authority. I do not deny a value in 
the use of the idea, as it is a very complex one, but it must be qualified 
by the development of the man to whom the conception appeals. The 
fact that it is man's moralization that purifies the conception of God 
only proves the extent to which the idea may become anthropomorphic, 
as our own minds must be the measure of what we conceive. Reflec- 
tion and criticism may eliminate objectionable features, but the natural 
temptation to anthropomorphism, as perhaps the necessity of it in some 
form, is such that it is more important to imbue the human mind with 
the right ideas and the will with the right motives than it is to save 
philosophic theism from mere speculative impurities. 

To correct the tendencies to individualistic anthropomorphism we 
need to test our ideals by reference to the totality of the phenomena 
which they are supposed to embrace in the scope of their action, and 
this duty brings us to face all the facts as the data by which we shall 
measure the character of the causal agency at the basis of things, with 
no more right to anthropomorphize it than we are allowed to anthropo- 
morphize everything under the limitations of criticism. In the ideal- 
istic philosophy everything is anthropomorphic. Since all reality has 
to be seen and understood in terms of human nature, there can be no 
objection to a definite characterization of the Absolute, because it must 
be interpreted by what it does, and if the moralization of man in the 
process of evolution is the work of the Absolute in any respect its char- 
acter is to that extent determined in spite of the anthropomorphic ele- 
ments in our ideas. 

But to return to the main point. It is not a theistic theory, as 
xisually understood, that is the primary thing to be established, but the 
moralization of man as a condition of making such a conception useful. 
It of course reacts on character, but the appreciation of an idealized 
deity is necessary in order to give it any moral efficiency, and this ap- 
preciation involves some prior moralization as a condition of accepting 
the objective existence of the ideal in anything else. I have already 
remarked that the cogency of the arguments for God's existence de- 
pend more upon the conception of God which we entertain than upon 
the method of arguing the case. The material content of our conclu- 
sions is as important fact as the formal process. Our method may be 
faultless and our conclusion a non-seq7iihir simply because it repre- 
sents more than is contained in our premises. This means, of course, 
that less importance attaches to the name of God than to the facts of 
the cosmos which are supposed to have a cause. The name cannot 
safely be used for any other purpose than to express these facts or the 



6o2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

law underlying them. We shall have to discover the general plan, or 
the various parallel or convergent j^lans of cosmic evolution in order to 
endow the conception of God with that use for science which it has 
ideally for religion. The difficulties here are unquestionably great. 
The evidential criterion of science is so rigid and exacting that it im- 
poses an unusually severe task upon inquiry, and the tendency for a 
century has been to trust no other criterion or authority. Science has 
taken the place of philosophy, with a method that subordinates a priori 
to a posteriori considerations, and thus insists upon the study from 
the point of view of facts. I have shown that the supreme method of 
proof in science is the Method of Difference, or isolation, the Method 
of Agreement always requiring more or less suspense of judgment in 
forming convictions. 

Now^ if God have an organic relation to the universe it will be im- 
possible to '■'• prove" his existence absolutely by scientific method, be- 
cause he cannot be isolated or separated from it. He is too integral a 
part of it, on this supposition of his continual support of it, to apply 
the method of difference to the determination of the result. The 
method of agreement would be applicable to sustain such possibilities 
as the facts and that method will support, but will always leave much 
to variations of individual temperament in the determination of belief, 
as it can give only various degrees of probability. This procedure 
might go so far as to decide the balance against scepticism, \vhen it 
did not wholly remove that influence on cautious minds. The con- 
vergent effect of all facts and the influence of moral temperament 
might conclude in favor of a possibility or a probability and the mind 
remain content with that where it could not attain certitude. But in 
any case, whether for proof or presumption, there must be evidence 
sufficient to show an intelligent and moral tendency in the course of 
things to estimate the character of the Absolute by what it does, and 
so to make the conception of God, as that is contrasted with " nature," 
agreeable to the demands of our highest intelligence and morality. 
There is only one way open to us to effect this, after realizing the 
enormous difficulties in the way of scientifically proving the existence 
of God by either of the methods mentioned. This is to make probable 
that the order of the world involves the preservation of personal con- 
sciousness. It is the struggle of the human mind between its ideals 
and the discoverable tendency of things toward materialism that gives 
the sting to scepticism and tortures those who wish to create an ap- 
preciation for the highest spiritual life by showing that nature is on the 
side of it. To feel that the cosmos creates impulses and obligations. 



C ONCL USION. 603 

which it has no intention either to reward or to estimate as highly as 
it does tlie impulses which that ideal imperatively treats as morally in- 
ferior, is to place ourselves inevitably where we must judge the world 
by that standard. If man could give the immortality of the soul, that 
is, its survival of death, the same probability that many of his widest 
scientific truths possess, he would find himself in a position to be less 
passionately interested in the theistic argument and might find himself 
conceding it without resistance. If he found the actual order of the 
world on the side of his best ideals, the reflex of this fact would be to 
bring the conception of God into closer relation to the idea of nature 
than it has ever been since the controversy arose between Christianity 
and Greek philosophy. Such a result would show the conservation 
of personality to be equal to that of matter and a part of the same 
scheme, and the technically theistic conclusion would either follow as 
a natural consequence or be easily held in abeyance for further knowl- 
edge. To be thus conscious that duty and humanity are estimated by 
nature as they are by the best men is to remove the attack on the world 
for not being divine, and though the mystery of apparently unjust pain 
would still remain to trouble fine intellects, its savagery would be miti- 
gated by the hope of final victory over struggle and for mercy. The 
conception of God as a personal being would more easily adjust itself 
to such an order without being made any longer antithetic to nature, 
which after all is nothing but a name for facts divested of all presup- 
positions of causes. We deceive ourselves when we talk of "nature" 
as a cause. Neither "nature" nor "law" do anything. They are 
mere names for what is done^ and the cause remains a quassitum unless 
it is given directly with the event or events caused. The perpetual 
scientific reference to nature as a cause is based upon an illusion and 
owes its cogency with most minds to the readiness with which even 
theism conceded it causal implications. But where it is not a synonym 
for gross sensible matter and where we have to assume that super- 
sensible matter, if ether is called this, is not distinguishable from spirit 
as the basis of phenomenal reality, it is worthless for combating the 
conception of God, especially if we should ever render it certain or 
probable that the preservation of personal consciousness is a part of 
the world's plan. The reflex influence of such a fact upon every in- 
dividual man who realizes what the moral law commands for his ethi- 
cal life must be to treat the conception of God quite as sympathetically 
as he would any generalization representing a cosmic order satisfac- 
tory to reason and conscience, although he may not easily see the ideal 
in all the individual facts, any more than a child sees it in all the acts 



6o4 THE PiiOBLEMS OF PIIILOSOPIIY. 

of a parent leading to a desirable end. It might make the moral forces 
of intellectual men more effective if they could prove as much as they 
believe, but in the absence of such proof they can onlv try to console 
themselves with the hope that things are better than they look. 

So lange wir vertrauen So long as we can trust 

Auf uns'ren eig'nen Muth, Our courage firm to hold, 

Und hoffend vorwarts schauen, And hoping forwards look, 

So lang' ist alles gut. So long is all 'for good. 

Und sei dies Hoften, Sehnen And if this longing hope 

Auch nur ein Schoner Traum Is but a fairy dream, 

Zu trocknen deine Thranen To dry our bitter tears 

Gib ihm im Herzen Raum. Give it a place in life. 

Some of us, however, will not do this without evidence. But quasi 
apologies for our ignorance aside, the primary condition for viewing 
both immortality and God with proper respect is the actual morality 
which is supposed to be conditioned by them, and it only adds to one's 
distress if he loses faith in the moral law because he feels sceptical in 
his metaphysics. When a man endeavors to prove the maxims of 
morality by philosophic defence of the existence of God and of a 
future life, he shows that he accepts the truth and the value of that law 
prior to the proof of it, so that its integrity is safe. He relies upon 
his insight and not upon his logic. 

Ein guter Mensch in seinem dunkeln Drange 
Ist sich des rechten Wages wohl bewusst. 

A good man even in the darkest hours of distress is quite conscious of 
the path of duty. The priority of moral insight does not imply any 
indifference to or impeachment of the value of theistic belief, but only 
the condition of making that belief useful. Unless God represent in 
himself the moral ideal, he is nothing but the embodiment of arbitrary 
power such as the Greeks thought their gods, and hence scepticism 
with regard to them created no distress. Theism and morality may 
act and react on each other, but man can never attribute to his divini- 
ties any qualities which he has not previously discovered or idealized 
in himself, and these will be some form of power and intelligence. 
The only rational object that he can have in so attributing them is the 
desire to indicate the existence of some law or agency in the system of 
external things which has to be respected in his action. But the diffi- 
culty which he has to meet in the assertion or belief in such an agency 
is that which is created bv the absence of clear evidence for the real 
existence of the ideal being which he would place at the basis of the 
cosmos for the purpose of justifying the hopes and faith he entertains 



C ONCL US ION. 605 

as to Its outcome. If he were not too anthropomorphic, as I have 
already remarked, his difficulties would be less. But all that he can do 
is to respect his ideal and to search for the facts that may illuminate 
the course of nature with that beauty and goodness which has always 
passed for the divine, whatever we may choose to call the cause that 
supports them. 

To follow knowledge like a sinking star 
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. 
To sail beyond the sunset and the baths 
Of all the western stars until we die. 
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down : 
It may be we shall touch the happy isles. 

But since the recognition of the indestructibility of matter and the con- 
servation of energy it has been impossible to accept a theistic view of 
things that did not admit the immanence of the divine in the cosmic 
process, and the only way to give this any spiritual character at all is 
to find explicit evidence that consciousness cannot be explained by 
brain activity alone and that there is something besides the gross mat- 
ter which we sensibly know in the organism. It may be anything we 
choose to call it, but once established it leads inevitably to the demand 
for a unity at the basis of both matter and mind as we know them. It 
will not make any difference what we call this, provided that its law 
of action respects human personality and its ideals. 

A word on the subject of Pantheism is perhaps necessary in the 
discussion of the theistic theory, since it has been considered in the 
history of philosophy as especially opposed to religion and a theistic 
view of things. There was some antagonism to Pantheism during the 
middle ages when it was discovered that the Platonic conception of 
God was that of an impersonal reality. But the illusion regarding 
Plato's doctrine of immortality sufficed to prevent his pantheistic con- 
ception of God from being dangerously heretical, a fact of some in- 
terest because it shows that the interest we have in the assumed person- 
ality of God relates solely to the relation of that idea to immortality if 
it is not guaranteed by natural evidence. But when the conception of 
God as a personal being was necessary to protect the belief in a pos- 
sible survival from death, the doctrine of pantheism appeared very 
different to the religious mind, and as Spinoza revived in all its logical 
severity the monistic conception of the Absolute as set off against the 
monotheistic conception of God distinguished from a pluralistic cos- 
mology, it was natural to feel the antagonism between the two points 
of view, especially when it was remarked that Spinoza had no clear 



6o6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ideas on either the personality of God or the doctrine of personal 
immortality. 

But I must consider this antagonism to the monistic and pantheistic 
conception as wholly mistaken. I do not consider a single philosophic 
theory of the cosmos as in the slightest opposed to religious views, or to 
the personality of God and to the immortality of the soul, except modern 
atomic materialism. The supposition that they are incompatible comes 
from the general theological acceptance of one interpretation of the 
doctrine of Spinoza, who in fact may be and is interpreted by some 
writers as having held to both ideas. What Spinozism opposed and had 
to oppose was the Christian doctrine of the "spiritual body" which 
occupied space. Spinoza had adopted the philosophic theory of Des- 
cartes in regard to mental and physical phenomena, and this required 
him to regard the mental as spaceless or unextended. If personality 
were conceived as essentially extended of course Spinoza denied it and 
had to deny it to be consistently Cartesian. With him personality had 
to be conceived as a stream of consciousness, or as not existing in any 
sense but the physico-legal sense in which it applied to the human 
organism and all its properties and functions. All that is needed to 
get out of difficulties in this question is to distinguish between " per- 
son " as a name for the soul and "personality" as the name for its 
manifestation in the functional unity of consciousness and its stream. 
Accepting " personality" in this last sense, the real import of it to 
most scholastic philosophers, and remembering that Spinoza affirmed 
thought or consciousness of the Absolute, we see that he essentially 
admitted all that the theist desires in his conception of God. He also 
affirmed extension of the Absolute, though he made the two attributes, 
consciousness and extension, parallelistic in their nature. But the 
function of thought or consciousness affirmed of it makes his panthe- 
istic doctrine consistent with all that is essential to theism. 

Nor could he escape the doctrine of personal immortality, except as 
it was conceived in the doctrine of the bodily resurrection in which 
" personality" was associated in its meaning too closely with the idea 
of extension, and the body was not imperishable. But as his panthe- 
istic doctrine made all phenomena modes of the Absolute ; as he could 
not appeal to the postulates of atomism to make consciousness a func- 
tion of composition ; and as he had to suppose the same relation of 
consciousness to the Absolute in all its stages, it was onlv a question 
of fact to determine whether the personal stream of the individual sur- 
vived or not. There was nothing in the pantheistic conception to 
make it impossible, so far as the nature of the Absolute was con- 



CONCLUSION. 607 

cerned, especially as one of its attributes was consciousness. Besides 
the analogy which we have in primary and secondary personalities, 
subliminal and supraliminal mental phenomena, shows how we might 
conceive the relation between our own individuality and the personality 
of the Absolute, though I have no intention of urging this analogy as 
representing the facts. It merely indicates that two distinct personali- 
ties may exist side by side in the same subject, so that we do not violate 
any known principles when we suppose the Absolute to have a per- 
sonality distinct from that represented in our own individuality and per- 
sonal nature. 

All these general questions between realism and idealism, material- 
ism and spiritualism, agnosticism and theism, are summarizable in the 
relation between science and religion which may be taken up as the two 
great antagonistic modes of thought from the eai'liest times. I shall not 
enter into any technical definition of either of them here, as I am not 
concerned with a critical examination of their conceptions for special 
purposes, but only with the general spirit represented by them. Re- 
ligion is broadly conceived as a creed, a sentiment, and a cult, while 
science is as broadly treated as a creed about the cosmos and its laws 
of action, minus sentiment and a cult. Religion has been variously 
related to faith and reason, and science to reason only, in its attempt to 
understand the past and to predict the future from what it learns about 
the present. I shall not go, however, into any careful examination of 
their conceptual relations philosophically considered, but content myself 
with the simple remark that the general spirit of science is respect for 
facts while religion is essentially identical wath poetry. In fact, I shall 
here treat religion and poetry as the same, distinguishing, as the age has 
begun to do, between religion and theology, the latter being a philosophy 
subject to the vicissitudes of human opinion while the former is perennial 
and embodies the emotional attitude of man toward the totality of things 
and their moral outcome, and which, whether conscious or unconscious 
of its anthropomorphic character, may even touch the spirit of science 
with inspiration and power. Hence it is not the abstract conceptions 
of science and religion with which we have to deal, nor merely with 
certain clearly defined functions of mind. Both of these may easily 
be harmoniously adjusted, if the subject matter to which they relate is 
consistent one with the other. But it is the man of science and the 
man of religion, with their complex temperaments that stand so opposed 
to each other. Or perhaps better, it is the general mass of ideas and 
interests gradually selected and consolidated on each side by the develop- 
ments of history that constitute the battle ground of these two enemies. 



6oS THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

It is with these we have to treat in the effort to adjust their differences. 
The terms religion and science simply stand for these two sets of com- 
plex temperaments and conditions. 

It is impossible, however, to compose the differences between these 
two tendencies without more or less criticism of both sides. Recon- 
ciliation cannot be effected without mutual concession, and it is the 
writer's opinion that most of this concession will have to be made by the 
champions of religion. Science will be required to yield something to 
those feelings which make existence serious and excite reverence, but 
religion will have to depend upon science for its creed. 

It has always been the peculiar characteristic of religion that it has 
been especially conservative and science liberal and progressive. There 
may be something inherent in this tendency for religion, as it is cer- 
tainly inherent in the nature of science to be liberal, since it is based 
upon the study of facts in the everchanging present and not upon mere 
authority and tradition about the past, or upon hopes about the future, 
I am inclined to think, however, that the conservative instincts of re- 
ligion are due more to hereditary animosities than to the nature of the 
mental needs satisfied by it. But whatever the reasons, it has been 
in some way connected with losing causes more than any other 
tendency of the human mind, or has resisted change and intellectual 
progress more than any other system of beliefs and feelings. No doubt 
this tendency was distinguished by the tenacity of certain beliefs like 
those concerning the existence of God and of a future life, and their 
association with a vast system of dogmas on both cosmic and philo- 
sophic questions, so that the whole seemed to be threatened if the in- 
tegrity of any part of it was affected. But it was first the misfortune 
of religion that it confided its protection to doctrines which were 
evanescent and which became the prey of the changes effected by 
science, while to save itself destruction at the hands of progress it re- 
sorted to the use of political power and persecution. This policy de- 
scribes its history for centuries, and the same spirit is not yet wholly 
defunct. It has ceased to burn heretics at the stake, but it does not 
always relax the spirit of intolerance as is incumbent upon a power 
that has suffered so many scientific defeats. It has simply refined its 
methods of persecution. Wherever it can, it withholds the natural 
and intellectual rewai"ds of life from those who undertake to criticise 
its errors. Anything like adequate freedom of thought it does not 
permit, and this in spite of its own Protestantism in behalf of freedom 
of conscience. The imputation of intolerence against this age, however, 
may mistake the amount of progress away from it. Vast improvement 



C ONCL US I ON. 609 

over the past is evident, though examination will show that its evidence 
is more in the abandonment of the rougher methods applied to scepti- 
cism rather than the adoption of a positive interest in freedom of 
thought. But with all allowances for liberalizing tendencies there is 
no such opportunity for frank remonstrance against the illusions of the 
religious mind where it is most needed in regard to questions that are 
rightly the subject of philosophic debate. It is only the man who has 
no responsibilities as an institutional teacher that can speak out his 
mind freely in the public forum. The freedom of academic teaching 
is perfect on every subject but religion and those questions affecting 
religious interests. 

I do not deny that scepticism has often been quite as provoking as 
faith. Sceptical intolerance has often been as great as that of which 
it has complained, while it has also been complicated with the pride 
of knowledge. But apart from a temperament quite as objectionable 
as religious bigotry, scepticism is only the obverse side of faith itself. 
So many things of a detrimental character to men individually and col- 
lectively have been accepted without examination or restraint by whole 
generations that scepticism has been the only hope of redemption. It 
is only that temper of mind which asks for evidence and examination 
before accepting beliefs. This men regard as a duty in all subjects ex- 
cept religion and here it is too often regarded as sacrilege. The belief 
in the existence of God and of immortality has been infused with the 
intolerance and the passions of political power while cultivating a 
view of things as sensuous as it was supposed to be spiritual, until there 
is nothing to bring us to rational conceptions except to question author- 
ity. Scepticism, therefore, in restraining these tendencies, like wis- 
dom, has had to seek justification of her children in the appeal to 
humanity when challenging the truth of fancies that have been insuf- 
ficiently sustained by evidence and that have not prevented, but have 
perhaps actually encouraged the display of the worst passions. Poetic 
imagination, untempered by respect for fact and reality, has too often 
molded the ideals and conduct of men, and its influence has been 
directly proportioned to the nature of the objects on which admiration 
fell. These may be as poisonous in the religious field as in any other. 
No wonder that Plato banished Homer from his ideal republic where 
he intended a higher humanity to reign. The wrath of Achilles and 
the savage cruelties of the Iliad cannot be objects of respect for humane 
ages or for societies that value refinement and morality. Ulysses in 
his wandering search for knowledge is a better conception. Nor can 
any really spiritual nature lose itself in reverence for the purely ma- 

39 



6lO THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

teriulistic ideas of mediaeval Christianity turned into the poetry of Dante 
and Milton, It is man's sensuousness that curses him with an ideal 
which onl}- scepticism can destroy. But this savior, like all others, 
only gets crucifixion for its pains in clearing man of the illusions 
that haunt the path of salvation. But scepticism performs an impor- 
tant function in the work of progress by tempering the extravagances 
of " other worldliness," by restraining useless excursions into the un- 
known, and by preparing the way for a judicious use and economy of 
the moral earnestness that may remain after doubt has limited the area 
of certitude in knowledge. It is also often enough accompanied by as 
much reverence for truth, beauty, and goodness as it has by resigna- 
tion for the loss of aspirations that are identical with those of faith. 
But it has none of the temper either of the coward or of the hypocrite, 
and it finds in moral courage a compensation for restricted ideals. It 
may even identify itself with the humanities that confer upon religion 
its whole secular value. 

The religious mind too often fails to realize this basis of honesty in 
the sceptic and by want of proper sympathy drives him into contro- 
versy w^here the morals of both are in danger of contamination and 
when honest candor might make them allies. But the chief fault of 
the religious mind is its inelasticit}' and inadaptability to new facts. It 
wall sit at no shrine but the dead formulas of the past. It is forever 
trying to put new wine into old bottles. It has allowed its creeds to 
become fixed and petrified, that is, mere words with the content of 
what they once meant wholly lost. Religion forgets that its first con- 
ceptions had their meaning determined by their relation to the envi- 
ronment in which they were formed and which no longer exists, and 
consequently that its own victory over ancient philosophy imposed the 
duty of progress which it has allowed science to assume. Repeating 
antique formulas is not the way of salvation. It is no better than 
counting one's beads. Nor will logical jugglery save a creed from 
decay or give its decrepit form new life. Contact with present realitv 
is its only safe refuge. It cannot remain in the twilight of fable and 
save its hopes from despair, if it persists in its distrust of science. It 
needs to learn the lesson of humility and sacrifice which it has alwavs 
taught, as its experience with Copernican astronomy, Newtonian grav- 
itation, and Darwinian evolution ought to indicate. The confession of 
error and the change from a useless devotion to the past are as impera- 
tive duties as any that religion has urged upon the hardened sinner. 
But it parades its own infallibility and hides its own sins, while it 
evades all the merits and magnifies or misrepresents the weakness and 



CONCLUSION. 6ll 

errors of scientific scepticism. It is not wise, however, to threaten 
the vahie of its ideals by persistence in creeds that have as httle in 
their defence as they have power to sustain those ideals. Its first duty 
is to accept the situation which science has created, abandon all con- 
troversy with facts, and construct its system of beliefs in accordance 
with the methods which it has so long antagonized. The religious 
man is forced to accept inductive processes for all convictions in sci- 
ence and tries to keep a priori methods alive for the one subject that 
is more dubious than all others. The time is past when we require 
absolute certitude for all our convictions. " Probability is the guide 
of life," and no harm comes from the perpetual adjustment of our be- 
liefs to everchanging facts. Religion wall certainly lose its power for 
usefulness on any other policy and what moral earnestness it has con- 
served for the world will languish or expire for the want of association 
with the conceptions and conclusions of science, so many of which are 
definitely settled. 

It is important to remind the religious man that there is one fact 
about science that makes its influence highly moral and religious in the 
true sense of those terms. No man can cultivate the scientific spirit 
without having a supreme reverence for facts. There is no field of 
human interest which commands so much sacrifice of prejudice, of 
preconceptions, of half-formed theories, or of selfish propensities in 
the matter of convictions. No fact dare be distorted without the 
assurance that it will return in its integrity to plague the inquirer. 
Science demands the most absolute sacrifice possible. A man must 
bow before facts as he would before the Almighty. He cannot de- 
mand that the universe yield to his wishes in everything vmless he is 
prepared for the fate of Midas. His spirit must be that of the pious 
devotee who earnestly prays : " Thy will be done." There is no sur- 
render of the will so absolute as that required by science. There is no 
ritual in the worship that it commands, but, like the kingdom of God, 
its sanctuary is in the heart and will, having no outward forms that are 
either necessary or useful for the incitement of obedience and rever- 
ence. Science has but one mood by which to secure salvation and 
that IS willing acceptance of facts regardless of theories and emotions. 
The Christian w^ho demands of himself and others the strictest submis- 
sion to the will of God, the sacrifice that asks no favor and pines at no 
suffering, only expects of man what the scientist must practice whether 
he makes it an ideal or not, if he expects to be a scientist at all, or to 
free himself from the travel of despair and to be content with less than 
he might hope. The religious man may often, or perhaps may nearly 



6l2 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

always, fail to live up to his ideals, but the scientific man never. The 
latter is ever before an unpropitiable power and he knows it. He 
learns to bow to its course and to adjust his ideals to the limitations 
under which he works. He may not feel the reverence that is due to 
personality, but he fulfils the first condition for understanding a per- 
sonality if he ever found a belief in it justifiable, and he realizes in his 
moral attitude toward things all that any personality can require of 
him as long as it conceals its own clear existence from human knowl- 
edge. The truly scientific man will allow no sentimental considera- 
tions to prejudge his estimate of nature, but accepts it as a privilege 
and a duty to live strictly within the boundaries of assured fact, and 
where he can venture to hope for more than this, he does so with the 
resignation of a Stoic. The letter of Professor Huxley to Charles 
Kingsley is an illustration of the scientific man in his best estate and is 
a lesson to the religious devotee that should not be forgotten.^ 

'The whole of this letter is worth quoting as the best example that I know of 
the religious spirit in the scientist. The son says of it: "His reply to a long 
letter of sympathy in which Charles Kingsley set forth the grounds of his own 
philosophy as to the ends of life and the hope of immortality, affords insight 
into the very depths of his nature. It is a rare outburst at a moment of intense 
feeling, in which, more completely than in almost any other writing of his, in- 
tellectual clearness and moral fire are to be seen uniting in a veritable passion 
for truth." 

"My Dear Kingsley — I cannot sufficiently thank you, both on my wife's 
account and my own, for your long and frank letter, and for all the hearty sym- 
pathy which it exhibits — and Mrs. Kingsley will, I hope, believe that we are no 
less sensible of her kind thought of us. To myself your letter was specially 
valuable, as it touched upon what I thought even more than upon what I said in 
my letter to you. My convictions, positive and negative, on all the matters of 
which you speak, are of long and slow growth and are firmly rooted. But the 
great blow which fell upon me seemed to stir them to their foundation, and had 
I lived a couple of centuries earlier I could have fancied a devil scoffing at me 
and them — and asking me what profit it was to have stripped myself of the 
hopes and consolations of the mass of mankind .'' To which my only reply was 
and is — Oh the devil! truth is better than much profit. I have searched oyer 
the grounds of my belief, and if wife and child and name and fame were all to be 
lost to me one after the other as the penalty, still I would not lie. 

" And now I feel that it is due to you to speak as frankly as you have done to 
me. An old and worthy friend of mine tried some three or four years ago to 
bring tis together — because, as he said, you were the only man who would do 
me any good. Your letter leads me to think he was right, though not perhaps 
in the sense he attached to his own words. 

" To begin with the great doctrine you discuss. I neither deny nor affirm the 
immortality of man. I see no reason for believing in it, but, on the other hand, 
I have no means of disproving it. 



C ONCL US I ON. 6 1 3 

Faust's monologue exhibits in clear light the tendencies of the sci- 
entific mind when it has to free itself from the shackles which tradi- 
tional conceptions of religion have put upon it. Faust had come fresh 

" Pray understand that I have no a priori objections to the doctrine. No 
man who has to deal daily and hourly with nature can trouble himself about 
a priori difficulties. Give me such evidence as would justify me in believing 
anything else, and I will believe that. Why should I not? It is not half so 
wonderful as the conservation of force, or the indestructibility of matter. Who- 
so clearly appreciates all that is implied in the falling of a stone can have no 
difficulty about any doctrine simply on account of its marvellousness. But the 
longer I live the more obvious it is to me that the most sacred act of a man's life 
is to say and to feel, ' I believe such and such to be true.' All the greatest re- 
wards and all the heaviest penalties of existence cling about that act. The uni- 
verse is one and the same throughout ; and if the condition of my success in 
unravelling some little difficulty of anatomy or physiology is that I shall rigor- 
ously refuse to put faith in that which does not rest on sufficient evidence. I 
can not believe that the great mysteries of existence will be laid open to me on 
other terms. It is no use to talk to me of analogies and probabilities. I know 
what I mean when I say I believe in the law of inverse squares, and I will not 
risk my life and my hopes on weaker convictions. I dare not if I would. 

"Measured by this standard, what becomes of the doctrine of immortality? 
You rest in your strong conviction of your personal existence, and in the in- 
stinct of the persistence of that existence which is so strong in you as in most 
men. 

" To me this is as nothing. That my personality is the surest thing I know 
— may be true. But the attempt to conceive what it is leads me into mere verbal 
subtleties. I have champed up all that chaff about the ego and the non-ego, 
about noumena and phenomena, and all the rest of it, too often not to know that 
in attempting even to think of these questions, the human intellect flounders at 
once out of its depth. 

" It must be twenty years since, a boy, I read Hamilton's essay on the uncon- 
ditioned, and from that time to this ontological speculation has been a folly to 
me. When Mansel took up Hamilton's argument on the side of orthodoxy ( ?) 
I said he reminded me of nothing so much as the man who was sawing off the 
sign on which he is sitting, in Hogarth's picture. But this by the way. 

"I cannot conceive of my personality as apart from the phenomena of my 
life. When I try to form such a conception I discover that, as Coleridge would 
have said, I only hypostatize a word, and it alters nothing if, with Fichte, I sup- 
pose the universe to be nothing but a manifestation of my personality. I am' 
neither more nor less than I was before. 

"Nor does the infinite difference between myself and the animals alter the 
case. I do not know whether the animals persist after they disappear or not. I 
do not even know whether the infinite difference between us and them may not be 
compensated by their persistence and my cessation after apparent death, just as 
the humble bulb of an annual lives, while the glorious flowers it has put forth 
die away. 

" Surely it must be plain that an ingenious man could speculate without end 
on both sides, and find analogies for all his dreams. Nor does it help me to tell 



6l4 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

from scholastic training into direct contact with nature and was en- 
dowed with a capacity for seeing its poetic side. The flush of excite- 
ment and enthusiasm which the change produced made the reaction 

me that the aspirations of mankind — that mj own highest aspirations even — 
lead me towards the doctrine of immortality. I doubt the fact, to begin with, 
but if it be so even, what is this but in grand words asking me to believe a thing 
because I like it? 

" Science has taught me the opposite lesson. She warns me to be careful how 
I adopt a view which jumps with my preconceptions, and to require stronger 
evidence for such belief than for one to which I was previously hostile. 

"My business is to teach my aspirations to conform themselves to fact, not 
to try and make facts harmonize with my aspirations- 

" Science seems tome to teach in the highest and strongest manner the great 
truth which is embodied in the Christian conception of entire surrender to the 
will of God. Sit down before fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every 
preconceived notion, follow humbly wherever and to whatever abysses nature 
leads, or you shall learn nothing. I have only begun to learn content and peace 
of mind since I have resolved at all risks to do this. 

"There are, however, other arguments commonly brought forward in favor 
of the immortality of man, which are to my mind not only delusive, but mis- 
chievous. The one is the notion that the moral government of the world is 
imperfect without a system of future rewards and punishments. The other is 
that such a system is indispensable to practical morality. I believe that both 
these dogmas are very mischievous lies. 

"With respect to the first, I am no optimist. But I have the firmest belief 
that the Divine Government (if we may use such a phrase to express the sum of 
the 'customs of matter') is wholly just. The more I know intimately of the 
lives of other men (to say nothing of my own), the more obvious it is to me that 
the wicked does not flourish, nor is the righteous punished. But for this to be 
clear we must bear in mind what almost all forget, that the rewards of life are 
contingent upon obedience to the w//o/e law — physical as well as moral — and 
that moral obedience will not atone for physical sin, or vice versa. 

"The ledger of the Almighty is strictly kept, and every one of us has the 
balance of his operations paid over to him at the end of every minute of his 
existence. 

" Life cannot exist without a certain conformity to the surrounding universe 
— that conformity involves a certain amount of happiness in excess of pain. In 
short as we live we are paid for living. 

"And it is to be recollected in view of the apparent discrepancy between 
men's acts and their rewards that Nature is juster than we. She takes into ac- 
count what a man brings with him into the Avorld, which human justice cannot 
do. If I, born a bloodthirsty and savage brute, inheriting these qualities from 
others, kill you, my fellow-men w^ill very justly hang me, but I shall not be 
visited with the horrible remorse which would be my real punishment if, my 
nature being higher, I had done the same thing. 

" The absolute justice of the system of things is as clear as any scientific fact. 
The gravitation of sin to sorrow is as certain as that of the earth to the sun, and 



CONCLUSION. 615 

tremendous and transferred all the emotions that had properly or tra- 
ditionally characterized religious worship over to physical nature. It 
is unfortunate, however, that the opposition between science and re- 
more so — for experimental proof of the fact is within reach of us all — nay, is 
before us all in our own lives, if we had but the eyes to see it. 

" Not only, then, do I disbelieve in the need for compensation, but I believe 
that the seeking for rewards and punishments out of this life leads men to a 
ruinous ignorance of the fact that their inevitable rewards and punishments are 
here. 

" If the expectation of hell hereafter can keep me from evil-doing, surely a 
fortiori the certainty of hell now will do so.? If a man could be firmly impressed 
with the belief that stealing damaged him as much as swallowing arsenic would 
do (and it does), would not the dissuasive force of that belief be greater than 
that of any based on mere future expectation .? And this leads me to my other 
point. 

" As I stood behind the coffin of my little son the other day, with my mind 
bent on anything but disputation, the officiating minister read, as a part of his 
duty, the words, 'If the dead rise not again, let us eat and drink, for to-morrow 
we die.' I cannot tell you how inexpressibly they shocked me. Paul had 
neither wife nor child, or he must have known that his alternative involved a 
blasphemy against all that was best and noblest in human nature. I could have 
laughed with scorn. What! because I am face to face with irreparable loss, be- 
cause I have given back to the source from whence it came, the cause of a great 
happiness, still retaining through all my life the blessings that have sprung and 
will spring from that cause, I am to renounce my manhood, and, howling, grove 
in bestiality.'' Why, the very apes know better, and if you shoot their young, 
the poor brutes grieve their grief out and do not immediately seek distraction in 
a gorge. 

" Kicked into the world a boy, without guide or training, or with worse than 
none, I confess to my shame that few men have drunk deeper of all kinds of sin 
than I. Happily, my course was arrested in time — before I had earned abso- 
lute destruction — and for long years I have been slowly and painfully climbing, 
with many a fall, toward better things. And when I look back, what do I find to 
have been the agents of my redemption .? The hope of immortality or of future 
reward.'' lean honestly say that for these fourteen years such a consideration 
has not entered my head. No, I can tell you exactly what has been at work. 
Sartor Resartus led me to know that a deep sense of religion was compatible 
with an entire absence of theology. Secondly, science and her methods gave 
me a resting place independent of authority and tradition. Thirdlv, love opened 
up to me a view of the sanctity of human nature, and impressed me with a deep 
sense of responsibility. 

" If at this moment I am not a worn out, debauched, useless carcass of a man, 
if it has been or will be my fate to advance the cause of science, if I feel that I 
have a shadow of a claim on the love of those about me, if in the supreme 
moment when I looked down into my boy's grave my sorrow was full of submis- 
sion and without bitterness, it is because these agencies have worked upon me, 
and not because I have ever cared whether my poor personality shall remain dis- 
tinct forever from the All from whence it came and whither it goes. 



6l6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ligion should give any room for misunderstanding as to the law of 
things or as to the source of rev'erential emotions. But religion has 
sought to exalt the purity of its own emotional content by confining it 
to some spiritual world whose whole meaning was obtained in contrast 
with the material. Yet at the same time that it defined its ideals bv 
the exclusion of nature, it still considered the latter as a product of the 
same power that expressed its divine character in the spiritual. It 
must therefore not blame the scientific man if the latter, distrustful of 

" And thus, my dear Kingslej, you will understand what my position is. I 
may be quite wrong, and in that case I know I shall have to pay the penalty for 
being wrong. But I can only say with Luther, ' Got helfe mir, ich kann nichts 
anders.' 

"I know right well that 99 out of 100 of my fellows would call me atheist, 
infidel, and all the other usual hard names. As our laws stand, if the lowest 
thief steals my coat, my evidence (my opinions being known) would not be re- 
ceived against him. [Said in 1S60. The law was reformed in 1869.] 

"But I cannot help it. One thing people shall not call me with justice and 
that is — a liar. As you say of yourself, I too feel that I lack courage: but if 
ever the occasion arises when I am bound to speak, I will not shame my boy. 

" I have spoken more openly and distinctly to you than I ever have to any 
human being except my wife. 

" If you can show me that I err in premises or conclusion, I am ready to give 
vip these as I would any other theories. But at any rate you will do me the 
justice to believe that I have not reached my conclusions without care befitting 
the momentous nature of the problems involved. 

" And I write the more readily to you, because it is clear to me that if that 
great and powerful instrument for good or evil, the Church of England, is to 
be saved from being shivered into fragments by the advancing tide of science — 
an event I should be very sorry to witness, but which will infallibly occur if men 
like Samuel of Oxford are to have the guidance of her destinies — it must be by 
the efforts of men who, like yourself, see your way to the combination of the 
practice of the Church with the spirit of science. Understand that all the 
younger men of science whom I know intimately are essentially of my way of 
thinking. (I know not a scoffer or an irreligious or an immoral m.an among 
them, but they all regard orthodoxy as you do Brahmanism. ) Understand that 
this new school of the prophets is the only one that can work miracles, the only 
one that can constantly appeal to nature for evidence that it is right, and you 
will comprehend that it is of no use to try to barricade us with shovel hats and 
aprons, or to talk about our doctrines being ' shocking.' 

" I don't profess to understand the logic of yourself, Maurice, and the rest of 
your school, but I have always said I would swear by your truthfulness and 
sincerity, and that good must come of your efforts. The more plain this was to 
me, however, the more obvious the necessity to let you see where the men of 
science are driving, and it has often been in my mind to write to you before. 

" If I have spoken too plainly anywhere, or too abruptly, pardon me, and do 
the like to me. My wife thanks you very much for your sermons. 
'• Ever yours faithfully, 

«'T. H. Hl-XLEY." 



CONCLUSION. 617 

speculations of an a priori sort and -without adequate evidence in 
their support, finds his God in the system which he admires, but which 
shows none of the ideal that is so much the object of the religious man's 
reverence. 

There are two things which the religious mind should learn. The first 
is that the language which it employs in the description of its system can 
have either of two meanings : ( i ) it may be abstract in which its import 
is neither interesting nor intelligible to those who think in concrete im- 
ages of sensible experience; (3) it maybe interpreted and must be in- 
terpreted by mankind in general, in the terms of present experience and 
not the past. It is the misfortune of religious doctrines that they carry 
their formulas from age to age while experience changes, and this ex- 
perience is the only thing by which the meaning of formulas can be un- 
derstood. Consequently, there is a perpetual clash between the con- 
servative and the progressive spirit of men and times, betw^een the 
tendencies that form their ideals in the past and those that form them 
in the present. The religious man insists upon being poetic. He can 
hardly be anything else. He can only imagine the past and the future, 
and his religion is based upon these. Nothing but the ideal survives 
the past and nothing but the ideal will pass into the future. The real 
of the one is buried forever and the real of the other can never be rep- 
resented. But the scientific man, the lover of facts must get his ideal 
and the source of emotional reverence from the present, and fortunate 
it will be, after the religious mind has discredited nature, if the scien- 
tist can be stirred by any beauty in it at all. But when he does feel 
emotional interest in it, the system which he studies is a mixed one. 
The real and the ideal are combined in miscellaneous confusion, so 
that he can never contemplate the spectacle of nature without seeing 
that, for the moment that it passes, the ideal is touched by illusion. 
What survives from the past and what is expected in the future are 
idealized by poetry and religion, and hence they enjoy a liberty for the 
imagination which science cannot indulge with impunity. Science is 
responsible for truth, whether the ideals of poetry and religion are 
realized or not. Its kingdom is that of fact and its temper must be 
austere and stoical. But in all this the man may rise above his sci- 
ence just as the devotee may fall below his ideal. It will all depend 
on the religious man to say, after so many scientific defeats against tra- 
dition, whether the scientist can make any overtures for peace. The 
vicissitudes of intellectual progress have dispossessed the reign of faith 
in all but those who have not the courage to defy the temptations of 
despair and in those who never clearly realize the real source of hope 



6lS THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and aspiration. Those who have to measure the character of nature 
or Providence by the present facts of experience, and who have none 
of the moral weakness of the sentimental must be pardoned a temper 
of courage and defiance as a condition of restraining intolerance and 
the indulgence of religious emotions that are injudicious in the choice 
of means for a justification. If left alone to express their devotions 
and enthusiasms the scientific men will always come near to piety and 
reverence. They have no quarrel with what cannot be. They ask no 
favor but to know and obey. 

Wenn der uralte, When the ancient, 

Heilige Vater Heavenly father 

Mit gelassener Hand With ti-anquil hand 

Aus roUenden Wolken From rolling clouds 

Segnende Blitze Blessings in thunderbolts 

Ueber die Urde sat, Sends over the earth, 

Kiiss ich den letzten I kiss the last hem 

Saum seines Kleides, Of his garment, 

Kindliche Schauer Childlike in awe 

Treu in der Brust. Faithful in spirit. 

That is a temper which the religious man cannot discourage without 
doing injury to the best that is in his own ideals, and it is remarkable 
that the sentiment should be expressed by a man like Goethe. 

Human nature has always sought the divine in the past and the 
future and could see no good in the present or no poetry in the real. 
It has looked with envy on an imaginary past and insists upon looking 
with passionate hope on an equally imaginary future for its ideals, and 
refuses to be consoled or satisfied with work and conquest in an order 
which it cannot regard as beneficent. But science has come to dis- 
turb its fancies and to teach a stoical attitude where poetic ecstasy can- 
not be felt or the worship of art and nature indulged with indifference 
to the golden illusions about the past and the future. It refuses to re- 
gard the ages that are gone and the ages that are coming as any better 
essentially than that which we inherit. Nature is uniform and impar- 
tial and does not alter its course or behavior. The sun and the moon 
do not stop in the valley of Ajalon. Whatever of mystery there is in 
the course of the world is the mystery of the present and not especially 
of the past or the future. There is either no age of miracles or it is 
ever present. The glory and the shadows of the world are the same 
for all periods of time. Whatever its changes it represents the same 
eternal coloring. Whatever inspiration comes from its beauty and 
grandeur and whatever intelligible aspect it shows, they are reflected 
from the present as much as from any real or imaginary past. 



CONCLUSION. 



619 



Die Sonne tont nach alter Weise 
In Bruderspharen Wettgesang, 
Und ihre vorgeschrieb'ne Reise 
Vollendet sie mit Donnergang. 
Ihr Anblick gibt den Engeln Starke 
Wenn keiner sie ergriinden mag; 
Die unbegreiflich hohen Werke 
Sind herrlich wie am ersten Tag. 



The sun still sings his ancient song 
In rival music with the stars, 
And in his predetermined path 
He ends his course in thundertones, 
His visage gives the angels strength 
When none can comprehend his ways ; 
The unconceived majestic works 
Are crowned as on the first of days. 



It will be the same with the future. Science will no more indulge 
imaginary hopes about the future than it will permit imaginary theories 
about the past. Facts, with what explains them and what they may 
presage, are the only revelation which it will tolerate. Patience, cour- 
age, and fortitude are the only virtues that it recognizes in its attitude 
toward the cosmos, though in doing this it often forgets the religious 
passion which worships even when it loses hope, its mind still linger- 
ing on the fond possibility that its stoicism and what it has to rever- 
ence and respect in the present order, may yet have a fruition where 
virtue does not have to seek a refuge in despair or be swallowed up by 
the insatiable maw of fate. But if it succeeds in coloring nature with 
any hue of beauty or goodness, or excites any admiration for external 
art and order, or counsels any moral attitude toward the cosmic proc- 
ess, it must either join its worship to pride and defiance without 
either hope or despair, or let its resignation pay homage to an ideal 
which it cannot prove while its emotional inspiration and enthusiasm 
shall mingle the aspirations of a Christian reverence and hope with the 
pathos of a Stoic life. 



Alles hinzugeben 
1st der Liebe Brauch ; 
Nimm denn hin mein leben, 
Und mein Sterben auch ! 

Aller meiner Lieder 
Sanften Schmeichellaut, 
Die ein Eden wieder 
Sich aus Schutt erbaut ; 

Alle Lichtgedanken, 
Die an Gluck und Leid 
Kiihn sich aufwarts ranken 
In die Ewigkeit ; 

All mein stilles Sehnen, 
Innig dir vertraut, 
Das in sel'gen Thranen 
Auf dich niederthaut ! 



All to thee to yield 
Is, God, the way of love ; 
So take, then, hence my life 
And to my death for thee ! 

All my gentle songs 
Of holy worship here. 
That build their Eden joys 
From only heaps of earth ; 

All the splendid thoughts 
That gleam in joy and pain, 
And boldly upward look 
Into Eternity; 

All my silent hopes 
And deeper faith in thee, 
That in my happy tears 
As dew-drops fall on thee ; 



620 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Nimm, class nichts dir fehle, Take these that nothing fail, 

Wenn die stunde ruft, And when the hour calls, 

Meine ganze Seele My soul and all it is 

Hin als Opferduft. As incense fragrance thine. 

But in this temper science will pass into religion and religion will 
submit to the sacrifice of its personal and selfish ideals until knowl- 
edge, extending " beyond the utmost bounds of human thought," shall 
show us that the future is a link with the present as the present is with 
the past. But whatever beauty or goodness the future may promise 
they must be found either latent or revealed in our present experience 
and must not be wdiolly unrelated or disconnected with an existence 
^^'hich is decried, on the one hand, and conceived as the end of all 
things, on the other. Evolution, with its persistence of energy, con- 
ceives the present as a moving point between the past and the future 
and ever developing progress or communicating the ideal and perma- 
nent from age to age, though for the moment that it passes it is marked 
by a shadow. But at any point in wdiich the scientific and the re- 
ligious temper meet the passing moment will be fraught with promise, 
and though it may not }'ield the hopes which we love to indulge, it 
will not wholly disappoint those w'ho, struggling to realize the ideal, 
are patient to bear the ills of the passing moment, which, while leav- 
ing the darkness in its wake, carries into the next the visible and pro- 
phetic light of progress. If evolution be the medium for transmitting 
the achievements of the present intact into the future, whatever sombre 
hues it may have for those impatient minds who watch in pain its re- 
morseless course, it wnll still shelter for preservation more than it allows 
to perish, and a defensible hope may hover over a limitless horizon 
which an older view had pictured as a precipice leading into a bottom- 
less gulf. We are not accustomed to think of evolution as the bearer 
of any inspiriting message, but with this conception of its function to 
preserve achievement and to protect progress it assmnes the character 
of a gospel that may cheer the moment which the gloomy fears of the 
past had saddened, and the science which had come to destroy our 
illusions follows its victory with the promise of life instead of death. 
It may not be apparent at first in this conception. 

Yet all experience is an arch -wherethrough 
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades 
Forever and forever as we move. 

It would be strange if the vigilance of the scientific spirit should bring 
again what its stoic morality told us must be sacrificed. The fabled 
Phoenix may rise again from its own ashes. It did so once in the 



CONCLUSION. 621 

history of the world when Christian spiritualism arose from Greek 
materialism, and right in the triumphs of modern scientific mater- 
ialism the latter's method may be the Nemesis of its scepticism. 
In that moment it will I'eanimate ethical and religious aspiration 
while it reconciles the passions of truth and hope. Greek and 
Christian ideals, the one an enthusiasm for art with a fear of death 
and the other an ascetic moral temper bathed in the prospect of eternal 
life, may be fused in a secular morality and a religious faith, a con- 
summation which neither Greek nor Christian could fully realize. 
" The fear of age and death," says Dickinson, " is the shadow of the 
love of life ; and on no people has it fallen with more horror than on 
the Greeks. The tenderest of their songs of love close with a sob ; 
and it is an autumn wind that rustles in their bowers of spring." The 
Christian transferred the charm and lustre of the present to the future, 
sought to redeem his earthly life by the belief in immortality and the 
brotherhood of man, forgot the scientific credentials for his hopes and 
the ethics of his social life, and became a prey to the triumph of an 
economic and materialistic order, until, between the contempt for fact 
and the loss of his faith, he must come to science for the resuscitation 
of the ideal and the illumination of the real. It is possible that this 
may discover the end toward which his history moves. 

On the other hand, there is in the scientific man's duties and occu- 
pations a condition of things that tends to suppress the sympathetic 
emotions. The very constraint of facts and the necessity for perpetual 
watchfulness against the influence of hopes and wishes, the suspense of 
judgment in the estimation of theories and the temptation to confine 
the vision to what is immediately before him, tend to keep in the 
background all the humanizing ideals and emotions that have done 
more than either science or philosophy to civilize the race, and have 
given science and philosophy themselves half the power which they 
exercise over the human mind. The scientific man heeds to learn that 
the narrowing of his enthusiasm to the mere discovery of truth may 
blind his vision to beauty and goodness, or at least may check the im- 
pulse to realize more than the cosmic order which he finds and does 
not produce. Man's character is as much concerned in making as in 
observing facts. The contemplative life alone is enervating, and with 
all the submission to the cosmic order, there is in scientific patience 
and resignation a condition of mind that escapes moral latitudinarian- 
ism only by the presence of the complementary virtues giving vigor 
and passion to the will. There is as much danger of the vmhuman- 
izing mental qualities in science as there is of illusions in religion, and 



(j22 the problems of philosophy. 

the man of fact should learn this as necessary to make his work as use- 
ful as it deserves to be. The division of labor which has seized every 
department of human activity too often shuts the scientific man out 
from those influences which tend to make him concessive to a power 
on which he depends for his existence. His living is assured by ar- 
rangements that permit exclusive occupation with his investigations. 
He is relieved from that struggle for existence against nature directly 
which does so much to create the sense of dependence that calls out 
religious hope and fear. Agricultural communities have always been 
religious : urban communities are less so. In the one, the direct con- 
tact with nature, whether it be regarded as impersonal or as the per- 
sonal dispensation of a will as fixed as anything impersonal could be, 
tends to enforce the sense of dependence on superior and mysterious 
power. In the other, this dependence is remote and indirect, the com- 
munity being commercial and the relations more or less social directly 
or indirectly. The one is a struggle of man with nature and the other 
a struggle of man wath man in his economic relations. Now the scien- 
tific man, with his living provided for him, feels little of this struggle in 
either the natural or the economic field. Such as he feels is that be- 
tween himself and those who have power to limit him in the freedom 
of his thought and speech. In contact with nature only as something 
to study and subject to his own will, and with man as a personal being 
whose whims and power he must consider without respecting, he will 
feel little religious dependence on the one and must learn in relation to 
the other the habits of prudence, sycophancy, politic manners, intel- 
lectual and moral reservation, obsequiousness, and deference to perse- 
cuting power and unwilling concession to minds and wills that invoke 
no respect while their power is feared, and all in a situation that obli- 
gates him to think and to tell the truth as he sees it. Dependence on 
nature, where effort can do nothing to make it obedient to our needs, 
invokes some of the finest as well as some of the worst of our religious 
habits of mind and will, but the courage that conquers it and diverts 
its blind processes into our own uses does not elicit the respect or rev- 
erence that is stimulated bv dependence on its grace. The struggle 
with nature will be humanizing only when it represents a balance be- 
tween courage and faith, the one to prevent superstitious subservience 
and the other to escape the despair of minds that feel the impulse of 
high dvities and no hope of realizing their ideals. But the scientific 
man, if he cannot have this courage and faith, and if he does not share 
with his fellows the conditions that mav press his will into the general 
service, he must lose the social function of his work. But he will 



CONCLUSION. 623 

never understand the religious temper until he is placed in that fierce 
struggle with nature to earn his living and to sustain an ideal which 
the physical world apparently regards with indifference. 

Wer nie sein Brod niit Thranen ass, 

Wer nie die kummervollen Niichte 

Au£ seinem Bette weinend sass, 

Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Machte. 

*' He who has never eaten his bread in tears or passed his anxious 
nights in weeping will ever feel the sense of the divine." But place 
the scientific man where he both feels his proper dependence upon the 
struggle for existence and can enjoy the freedom that is due his posi- 
tion as a missionary of truth and he too will be the first to express the 
humanizing and religious tendencies that are adaptable to the cosmic 
order and to the wants of his race. The religious consciousness can 
be revived in both its social functions and its larger hopes. "Sci- 
ence," says John Morley, who will not be accused of any orthodox re- 
ligious prejudices, " when she has accomplished all her triumphs in 
Tier own order, will still have to go back, when the time comes, to as- 
sist in building up a new creed by which men can live. The builders 
will have to seek material in the purified and sublimated ideas, of 
which the confessions and rites of the Christian churches have been 
the grosser expression. Just as what was once the new dispensation 
'was preached a Jiidceis ad Jadceos apud Judceos^ so must the new, that 
is to be, find a Christian teacher and Christian hearers. It can hardly 
be other than an expansion, a development, a readaptation, of all the 
moral and spiritual truth that lay hidden under the worn out forms. 
It must be such a harmonizing of the truth with our intellectual con- 
ceptions as shall fit it to be an active guide to conduct. In a world 
' where Tnen sit aitd hea7' each other groan., xvhere but to think is to 
be full of sorrow .1' it is hard to imagine a time when we shall be indif- 
ferent to that sovereign legend of Pity. We have to incorporate it in 
some wider gospel of Justice and Progress." 

The task imposed in this service is a large one and the scientific 
mind, whose duty it is to perform it, is exposed to the blight of ten- 
dencies of which it is not wholly conscious. Two things tend to de- 
humanize the scientist : the concentration of his life and thought on the 
iron order of nature and the measure of his exemption from competition 
with both nature and his fellows. With all his reverence for fact and 
with all his submission to laws that he can neither make nor unmake, 
constant isolation from the sense of dependence, and his consciousness 



624 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of power to penetrate the secrets of nature and to mold its forces to 
his own will encourage pride and self-confidence, close the springs of 
humanity, as he deals only with physical reality, induce him to form 
his ideals on the type of brute force and to imitate the superficial 
characteristics of an order from which he has banished all the higher 
sentiments of art, of poetry, and of religion, I do not mean that we 
need turn our backs on nature and seek again the ages of faith for sal- 
vation from the brutalities of that struggle for existence which seems 
the only norm of conduct that nature gives us for a gospel. For in 
spite of the conception which the orthodox middle ages maintained, or 
appeared to maintain, in regard to nature, and in spite of its boasted 
charity and love of man, its works were governed by the hope of per- 
sonal reward and the springs of the good were not humane in any re- 
spect. Besides, this particular period and human character represent 
such moral defects that one must regard nature as very long-suffering 
to preserve the species at all. But along with the scientific spirit has 
gone the consciousness that nature will not help us unless we help our- 
selves and the consciousness that we cannot depend upon the future to 
right the wrongs of the present in any artificial manner, a spirit that 
places the burden of responsibility for moral achievement upon cour- 
age and work, and so discredits the indolence of hope without work, 
while it does not lessen the feeling that man is superior to the ph3-sical 
order, though it brings him to see that his salvation must be won 
fro77i it instead of against it. Pity and sympathy can flourish more 
in a world of struggle than in one of grace. Yet the scientific spirit 
may easily lose the guerdon that the situation offers for the prize. 
The possession of power to move men depends as much upon showing 
that nature is on the side of human ideals and morality as upon the 
recognition of an inexorable order. But in the scientific man, the 
sense of the priority of physical law to what is to be won by moral 
effort and the dethronement of emotion from its natural, and perhaps 
dangerous power in life, leaves him where he has to face the ugly 
spectre of nature's apparent indifference to ideals which cannot be 
realized except in the physical order, and thus to obey laws that his 
own nature may not respect as highly as it \vould personality, could 
he feel convinced of its presence. The apparent heartlessness of what 
he studies and the remorseless savagery of the models that it offers to 
imitative action, without any belief in a higher purpose than the actual 
order that he contemplates, require strong inner principles to resist 
the temptation to follow " nature " instead of the humanity that en- 
deavors to rise above it. What science then will do for moral ideals 



C ONCL US ION. 625 

depends more on the man than upon his work. Evolution has to pro- 
duce the instincts that will counteract the narrowing influence of ab- 
sorption in physical investigations and distribute the honors of progress 
equally between what is consciously and what is unconsciously accom- 
plished. It is the duty of science to add to what can be unconsciously 
gained from the world and as a part of this system is that immense 
mass of ideas and feelings that are embodied in poetry and hope, it 
cannot afford to neglect them any more than it does the harder facts of 
matter and physical law. If we quarrel with nature for the lack of 
the humanities in her course, the obligation is all the sti'onger to re- 
spect enough the sense of superiority we feel to extort them from the 
reluctant hands of what we claim to master for our ends. It is only 
when we are ignorant of the ideal that we are excusable for imitating 
the " nature " that the moralist despises. Here is the place and func- 
tion of idealism. It is to stimulate and to realize wdiat the conscience 
indicates is above " nature" and not to wait for its spontaneous occur- 
rence. It is not a revelation that we want, but achievement. But the 
scientific man is in danger of abandoning an ideal because he does not 
find it ready made and he may sacrifice its inspiration and influence 
for mere grubbing in the mephitic mines of matter, sensible only of 
the colder stoic passion of courage to endure what he cannot respect 
or admire. Poetry and religion, though they have too often been led 
to look for peace outside the scientific world, have a function there for 
those minds that can see in it the chance for moral development, and 
it requires only that they accommodate their vision to the real and 
idealize that, if they hope to rob scientific enthusiasm of its sting. 
But if science take their place for humanizing man it must exhibit suf- 
ficient moral interest and power to inspire high ideals, or at least not 
to stifle them. In its mastery over matter, however, it is exposed to 
all the temptations of the cynic and may cool the ardor of youth in a 
passionless search for facts when wonder and beauty have lost their 
power But let these retain their inspiration and the opportunity is 
open for the union of the scientific and the religious spirit, provided, 
however, that the latter may concede to science the right to form our 
creeds. Religion, as a name for the serious view of life, may furnish 
the emotional attitude toward reality and the motive power for action, 
but it must leave to science the determination of what is true. 

The objection to such a reconciliation between science and religion 
would be that it involves the complete surrender of the latter to the 
former and that it leaves nothing to .religion which had characterized 
its very essence. Its fundamental conceptions have been the existence 

40 



Cz6 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

of God, the immortality of the soul, at least in Christianity, and the 
various beliefs that represent a cosmic dispensation ever in the per- 
sonal interests of man present and future. It will be said that the 
reconciliation proposed offers no rational substitute for these. Such 
an objection, however, is partly true and partly false. I have not pro- 
posed any dogmatic doctrines against scepticism and scientific method, 
but I have endeavored to preserve what is important in both move- 
ments. It is impossible to read the history of the conflict between the 
two tendencies without recognizing frankly the extent to which re- 
ligion or theology has been humiliatingly defeated in its claims, and 
this makes it necessary to frankly admit that, unless it can show func- 
tions unattackable by cosmic science, it must go the way of all the an- 
cient religions. The fundamental difliculty with much of what re- 
ligion has taught has been the impossibility of testing its assertions in 
the same way that any alleged fact could be tested. A scientific and 
critical age must try every assertion by experience and if it is inter- 
pretable in these terms it is credible ; otherwise it is not. Greco- 
Roman mythology w^as the earliest form of religion for those people, 
and it has wholly disappeared, except as a reservoir of literary refer- 
ence, and for the reasons that it was too anthropomorphic to be toler- 
ated by the spirit of science and that it had no ethical and social mo- 
tives and connections adequate to a properly humanizing mission. It 
was perhaps the most extensive and most explicit system of con- 
ceptions that the human mind ever formed impersonating and sym- 
bolizing in anthropomorphic types the operations of natural forces. 
The early Greeks saw and felt nature in its relation to man, not men 
in relation to each other. Hence their religion was naturalistic and 
obtained no social content. Hence their mythological religion disap- 
peared like a morning mist before scientific and philosophic criticism, 
though there remained in Platonism and Neo-Platonism a consuming 
desire to see the cosmic order in the light of a system in some way 
identified wdth the interests of man. But the general reaction was 
into a triumphant or despondent materialism. When Christianity 
came to reconstruct the religious svstem which it made more or less 
anthropomorphic, it did so more consistently with the spirit of sci- 
ence, as it admitted that intelligence was secondarily connected with 
physical events. It conceded an enormous field to the operations of 
" natural law " after the initial act of creation had been effected and so 
was less anthropomorphic than mvthology. But it also had the good 
fortune to identify itself with philanthropic and ethical impulses which 
were as much its primary characteristic as any creed about the tran- 



C ONCL US ION. 627 

scendental world. It was only the decline of the ethical motive and 
the extension of the philosophic that brought it into conflict with cos- 
mic problems of more enlightened ages. But even in this develop- 
ment it was the moral and social impulses in the system that did as 
much to preserve it as its philosophic creed, and perhaps more. In 
this respect it completely contrasts with Greco-Roman religions. 
These, as I have remarked above, never had the social and moral con- 
tent that infused Christianity with a passion for humanity, even though 
this was tinctured with a primary interest in a future life beyond the 
grave. Greco-Roman religions were a little more than superstitions 
about nature. The functions of ethics were left to philosophy which 
was sharply distinguished from religion by its opposition to anthropo- 
morphism. But Christianity more or less identified itself with philos- 
ophy in the course of its development and enforced something of a 
compromise with anthropomorphism while it clung to its ethical im- 
pulses and to the hope of a future life. Its vitality depended upon 
this fact. But in the course of time it allowed its science to atrophy, 
or to become a lifeless system of dogmatism in conflict with new dis- 
coveries and so endangered its ethics by their association with decadent 
cosmic beliefs. Its continued usefulness will depend vipon the conver- 
sion of its energy and enthusiasm into the ethical problems of civiliza- 
tion and the adjustment of its creed to the methods and results of sci- 
ence. It may as well face this condition and make its peace with sci- 
ence frankly and without reservation. It can do this with good grace, 
if science should succeed in giving a future life of the soul the same 
status that evolution and gravitation have. But its priesthood must 
have the courage to lead and not to follow in this movement. A new 
Protestantism is needed which will insist that religion needs as much 
reforming as science needs the leaven of moral impulse. One main 
difficulty is that there is too little freedom for those who would correct 
the errors of the religious mind by plain speaking. The priesthood 
that is able and willing to reform it, are not permitted to do it in the 
only way in which reform is possible and the same influences keep the 
institutional scientific man silent, while the most intellectual men who 
would like to do man a service as his ethical and religious teacher are 
not conceded the requisite freedom of thought and speech and must re- 
sort to the professions for a career. But the time is past in which we 
can insist that all the concessions shall be made by science. It has 
vindicated itself by its actual success as a guide to human conviction, 
and it is possible that it may, in the near future, supply all the credi- 
bility that the immortality of the soul can have, and this doctrine was 



628 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSCPHY. 

and is the foundation of Christianity, even in its ethical ideas. Its 
hope lies in alliance with science and not in antagonism with it. In 
many of its leaders it already shows this disposition, but it requires to 
be conscious, intelligent and unreserved. It must abandon all perse- 
cuting spirit and have as much faith in science as it has tried to cultivate 
hate against it. The virtues which it inculcates in men toward each 
other with its professions of faith it must adopt toward the scientific 
world, and it will find itself met half way and receive as much strength 
from voluntary humility as it does from the alliance with science. 

The comparative functions of reason and faith come under consid- 
eration in this connection. It is but another way of stating the rela- 
tion between science and religion. The historical controversy under 
these terms makes it necessary to give it at least a passing notice, and 
it represents the form of conception in which many minds understand 
the problem. Philosophy and science have stood for the supremacy 
of reason and religion for that of faith. There have been differences 
between philosophy and science, but they were not radical. Their 
general spirit is the same and to some extent their territory. Both are 
concerned with the cosmic order, whether material or spiritual, and 
both have aimed to correct mythological and anthropomorphic concep- 
tions of the world. Religion, whether consciously or unconsciously, 
has conserved the latter, and whenever it has been baffled by reason to 
support tradition and authority, it has appealed to faith as some agency 
for validating doctrines which are otherwise incredible. 

Both the strength and the weakness of the religious position is shown 
in this appeal to " faith." The term is so equivocal that it may com- 
prise either an important truth or the most fatal of all errors. I may 
summarize its various meanings, (i) Intuition as prior to and the 
basis of all ratiocinative or reasoned truth; (2) inductive as opposed 
to deductive or demonstrative conclusion; (3) acceptance of truth on 
authority and not on personal insight ; (4) fidelity of will toward a 
person or principle of conduct. There are corresponding equivoca- 
tions in the use of the term " reason," some of them actually coinciding 
with some of those for "faith." (i) Personal insight as opposed to 
authority. Intuitive as w^ell as ratiocinative processes; (3) ratiocin- 
ative as distinct from intuitive processes; (3) deductive and demon- 
strative ratiocination as distinct from both intuitive and inductive 
action ; (4) critical investigation of present facts as opposed to the 
blind acceptance of tradition and authority. 

It will be apparent to any reader what conflicts may arise from 
these various conceptions, not only between "reason" and "faith," 



C ONCL US ION. 629 

but also between the different meanings of each term. I need not go 
into any elaborate examination of the claims of any particular applica- 
tion of either term, as each and all would be subject to the qualification 
which the elimination of equivocation would effect. With the proper 
definitions and limitations a function for both " reason" and '' faith" 
is perfectly possible, and equally possible would be their opposition 
according to definition and application. Thus if "reason" be ratio- 
cinative and "faith" intuitive, there is no necessary conflict because 
process and object are supposed to be different. If " reason" be de- 
ductive and "faith" inductive there is no necessary conflict, as they 
would differ only in the modality of their judgments. But in the 
course of intellectual development "reason" has come generally to 
stand for both a method of obtaining a conviction and a certitude of 
mind which is contrasted with " faith," while this "faith" has fluc- 
tuated between a mental condition which supplied the basis for 
^'reason" and some sort of conviction which was not necessarily a 
"basis for reasoned truth of any kind, but a sort of mixture of chance 
and induction, or acceptance of what could not be "proved," though 
it may have some slight probability in its favor as against the opposite 
view. All these, however, represent the matter as a process of ar- 
riving at convictions, whether fixed or suspended, absolute or tenta- 
tive, and do not concern the subject matter involved. But in the con- 
troversy between science and religion the primary question has not been 
the process of obtaining knowledge but the objects of it, the proposi- 
tions of which assent is affirmed or denied. The conflict has been 
about the subject matter, not the mental process. The shifting of the 
controversy over to the question of process only evaded the real dis- 
pute, as "faith" has practically stood for the insistence for certain 
dogmas against the invulnerable conclusions of science, and gained 
illegitimate support by the effort to apply the term to a process which 
can be opposed to "reason" only as ratiocinative certitude is distin- 
guished from ratiocinative probability. In the controversy, therefore, 
we must distinguish radically between the question of process affecting 
the modality of conviction and the subject matter of assent or denial. 
" Faith" has too often been the appeal for the support of truth when 
the alleged fact was not supportable by " reason," as an organon of 
fact and experience. "Faith" as an inductive process, which is the 
only legitimate meaning of the term as implying assent to propositions, 
may very well guarantee conviction in scientific matters as well as in 
religion, but as a quality of will it does nothing of the kind. The only 
way to give it a function which science cannot attack is to limit it to 



630 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

this quality of will toward a person or principle. But to give it the 
function of determining probability as distinct from certitude concedes 
it a place in science and does not make it the organon of religion solely, 
but opens the way for convictions in science quite as opposed to reli- 
gious dogma as any demonstrative truth against it. A probability in 
science is quite as cogent for creating scepticism as a certitude when the 
choice has to be made between the more and the less probable. The 
consequence is that "faith" can have no function independent of the 
authority of science, unless it limits its meaning to the quality of will 
which conforms conduct to the best that w^e know and w^aits for further 
knowledge. 

It is sometimes said that Kant's philosophy provides a perfect 
reconciliation between science and religion, betw^een "reason" and 
" faith," by virtue of the admission that, although God and immor- 
tality cannot be disproved, they may be objects of "faith." The 
argument may be stated somewhat thus. Kant maintains that God 
and immortality cannot be proved. In ordinary parlance this nega- 
tive conclusion is tantamount to the admission that they cannot be 
believed, as it is wrongfully assumed that the absence of evidence is 
equivalent to the denial of the fact. It is this negative side of Kant, 
that is, his negation of the positive argument, that is usually empha- 
sized by the sceptic. But Kant w^as also quite as emphatic in main- 
taining that the existence of God and immortality could not be dis- 
proved, and in this balance between proof and disproof, the position 
of pure agnosticism, Kant was supposed to guarantee the rights of 
"faith" to believe or assert what "reason" could neither certifv nor 
discredit. This appears to say that if you call a mental process 
"reason" it cannot do what it can do if you call it "faith." To the 
present writer nothing can be more absurd than such a method of 
reconciling science and religion. The incompetency of the mind in 
any field shuts out the right to form any judgment in it whatever. 

Such a view, however, does not exactly represent the doctrine of 
Kant. He does not explicitly state the case in any such way, although 
there is much in his point of view to suggest this conception as the 
brief way of indicating his doctrine. What Kant does is to draw the 
distinction between " faith " ( Glauben ) and " knowledge" ( Wissen ) 
in a way to indicate that the difference is between personal convic- 
tions, subjectively sufficient, and truth that can be dogmatically proved, 
objectively sufficient, that is, between what one can believe himself 
and what he can make others believe. But he did not develop in the 
Kritik the basis upon which this personal belief rested. He did this 



CONCLUSION. 6 



in his later work on practical reason where he made the argument 
"moral" and not "logical." I do not think that his procedure was 
valid without the recognition of the theoretical principle which gave 
his argument what little force it possessed. He assumed the explana- 
tory power of " nature," which in fact it did not possess, and so forced 
himself to conceive God as transcendent instead of immanent, and con- 
sequently had no argument but the "moral" to support it. But he 
did not see that the actual cogency so often felt for this argument was 
derived from the element of inductive reason involved in it. 

There are two fundamental weaknesses in Kant's discussion of the 
problem. The first is his conception of God which he accepted from the 
scholastic dualism that his own position destroyed, a conception which 
was the a priori consequence of the assumed nature of matter and not 
the result of inference from proved facts. Had Kant seen that the idea 
of " nature " did not involve the explanatory at all ; had he seen that the 
primary conception of causality was neither phenomenal nor cosmo- 
logical, and had he sought to form his conception of God from the 
facts of nature, as this duty was implied by his respect for the teleo- 
logical argument, instead of assuming that its cogency applied to the 
scholastic transcendentalism, he would have had no grounds to resoi't 
to "faith" as the organ of belief regarding God and immortality. 
The second weakness of Kant's doctrine was his failure to consider the 
problem of induction in his conception of "reason" and "proof." 
Kant borrowed his whole conception of " reason" from the scholastic 
idea of ratiocination as the primary function or organon of truth. In 
the crucial situations affecting his argument his "reason" does not 
mean the mind as a whole but the logical and deductive process which 
was the scholastic and dogmatic agency for determining conviction. 
Though he recognizes " experience" as the source of ideas he does not 
develop the logic of it, which is inductive, but only the "judgments of 
experience." This would have been to admit as a function of "rea- 
son" something more than "« priori" and deductive demonstration 
or " proof," and so to have applied the idea of "proof" to the induc- 
tive process as well; that is, to have admitted two kinds of "proof,'" 
one inductive and the other deductive. But Kant had such a strong 
predilection for the scholastic habit of assigning "reason" the func- 
tion of determining certitude that he never conceived the place of in- 
ductive ratiocination in the theory of " knowledge," a view that appeals 
to evidence and fact for its support of conviction, and consequently, 
when he conceded "faith" a function in the formation of convictions 
on transcendental matters he seemed to favor the very dogmatism which 



633 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

he sought to eradicate ; for it may be said that it hud nearly always 
made God and immortality objects of this function, and when "rea- 
son" was appealed to it was with the purpose of increasing the mind's 
certitude on such matters and sustaining the idea that there was a con- 
nection between the transcendental and phenomenal worlds, a connec- 
tion that was admitted by Kant when he assumed the existence of an 
■*' unknown" cause ( Ursache ) of phenomena. His strenuous denial 
of the competency of " reason " to certify the great doctrines of re- 
Hgion, assuming "reason" to be the deductive and a prioj-i function 
of intelligence, and failing to analyze and use the inductive method in 
his theory, he prevented himself from making "faith" consistent with 
science and reason by giving it an inductive function in the formation 
of convictions and affording some measure of probability or choice in 
favor of one or the other alternatives in belief. But the impression 
left by Kant's conclusion was that "reason" could do nothing and 
"faith" everything in the important beliefs of the world, while he 
said nothing to show the value of the "reason" he accepted in the 
phenomena of nature. The real or anomalous character of this po- 
sition consisted in the facts that mankind regarded God and immor- 
tality as fundamentally more important than any truth about the cosmos 
and the present life and that Kant would neither affirm nor deny this 
fact, while he discredited the competency of " reason " in the transcen- 
dental and held it competent for the phenomena in which no one had 
any ethical interest. If Kant had explicitly declared that the field in 
which " reason" was competent had no importance for ethics and re- 
ligion and that the field in which it was incompetent was all-important, 
his relation to religion would have been clear, consistent, and intelli- 
gible. But it was necessary to throw^ a sop to Cerberus and the most 
convenient way to pacify the monster w'as to admit a function for 
"faith" and to remain silent on the valuation of "reason" in the 
sphere of the natural and the phenomenal. Kant, therefore, has done 
nothing to reconcile science and religion, because he is hopelessly in- 
volved in the meshes of a dualism, one term of wdiich is " unknowable" 
and the other presumably worthless for morality. 

The function of " faith," as I have suggested above in the analysis 
of the equivocations attaching to the term, must be clearly defined in 
all attempts to estimate its relation to scientific methods. Wherever 
it is assigned a function for determining a mental attitude toward 
propositions, it can only be more or less identical with some process 
of 7-eason^ whether intuitive or ratiocinative, deductive or inductive. 
Wherever it is a quality of will it has nothing to do with assent to 



CONCLUSION. 633 

truth of any kind, but with the readiness to test any alleged truth by con- 
formity practically to what it demands. This assigns it tlie function 
of expectation in a situation where necessity is not a quality of the 
conceptions involved. As assent to propositions it has always been 
distinguished from deductive ratiocination and so has fluctuated be- 
tween intuition or personal insight and the acceptance of truth on 
authority with the minimum of inductive reasoning involved, this be- 
ing limited to the possibility of a truth as attested by the character and 
knowledge of the assertor. This conception, however, absolutely pre- 
vents any conflict with science by making it a function in the study of 
phenomenal facts as well as in the acceptance of the transphenomenal, 
and so cuts religion off from any other court of appeal than scientific 
method itself. But considered as expectation, a state of mind on the 
border-line between assent and action, it has nothing to do with the 
determination of truth, certain or probable, but with the prudence of 
action in accordance with a possible or probable fact not immediately 
or certainly known. This conception also leaves to scientific method 
the determination of all convictions. 

It remains to consider the work of philosophy in the general de- 
velopment of man and in the problems between science and religion. 
1 shall treat it as essentially the same with science. It only happens 
that the narrower conception of the term " science," whether as the 
study of physical phenomena alone or as a mere study of the laws, the 
coexistence and sequences, of all events of whatever kind, is not com- 
monly understood to represent the critical study of conceptions or 
metaphysical problems. The broader meaning of the term includes 
these, as it concerns method rather than subject matter alone. But as 
the usual habit of defining an inquiry is determined by its subject mat- 
ter or territory, the reflective study of ideas and of problems beyond 
" empirical science " in the field of physical phenomena gets the name 
of " Philosophy," as distinguished from nomological questions. 
"Philosophy" thus happens to study problems which "science" has 
not often under that name presumed to consider, especially when they 
have been complicated with psychological factors. There is a com- 
mon field, however, in cosmic problems even when the purpose and 
mode of discussing them is not the same. But in all history " phi- 
losophy " has been expected to consider the most general questions of 
nature and mind and this makes it the final arbiter in all the matters 
that have been discussed in this conclusion, though it is conditioned in 
its work, as I think and insist, by the methods and results of the 
" empirical" and physical sciences. 



634 '^^''^ PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

The one general problem which usually distinguishes philosophy 
from the particular sciences is the reciprocal relation of man and cosmos. 
This has always been an absorbing theme with certain types of mind 
and it concentrates itself in the questions of ethics and religion and 
these about the existence of God and the immortality of the soul. 
"It is justly said," says John Morley, " that at the bottom of all the 
great discussions of modern society lie the two momentous questions, 
first whether there is a God, and second whether the soul is immortal. 
In other words, whether our fellow-creatures are the highest beings 
who take an interest in us, or in whom we need take an interest ; and, 
then, whether life in this world is the only life of which we shall ever 
be conscious. It is true of most people that when they are talking of 
evolution, and the origin of species, and the experiential or intuitional 
source of ideas, and the utilitarian or transcendental basis of moral 
obligation, these are the questions which they really have in their 
minds. Now, in spite of the scientific activity of the day, nobody is 
likely to contend that men are pressed keenly in their souls by any- 
poignant stress of spiritual tribulation in the face of the two supreme 
enigmas. Nobody will say that there is much of that striving and 
wrestling and bitter agonizing, which whole societies of men have felt 
before now on questions of far less tremendous import. Ours, as has 
been truly said, is ' a time of loud disputes and weak convictions.' In 
a generation deeply impressed by a sense of intellectual responsibility 
this could not be. As it is, even superior men are better pleased to 
play about the height of these great arguments, to fiy in busy intel- 
lectual sport from side to side, from aspect to aspect, than they are 
intent on resolving what it is, after all, that the discussion comes to 
and to which solution, when everything has been said and heard, the 
balance of truth really seems to incline. There are too many giggling 
epigrams ; people are too willing to look on collections of mutually 
hostile opinions with the same kind of curiosity which they bestow on 
a collection of mutually hostile beasts in a menagerie. They have 
very faint predilections for one rather than the other. If they were 
truly alive to the duty of conclusiveness, or to the inexpressible mag- 
nitude, of the subjects which nominally occupy their minds, but really 
only exercise their tongues, this elegant Pyrrhonism would be impos- 
sible, and this light-hearted neutrality most unendurable." 

Such being the fact the duty of philosophy is to have some in- 
telligible message on the great issues that have been mentioned. In 
Plato and Aristotle this responsibility was felt and philosophy con- 
tinued its service in that field, whether for good or ill, until the time 



C ONCL US ION. 635 

of Kant. But the outcome of Kant's work was such a spu-it of agnos- 
ticism and the intolerance of the religious world toward honest doubt 
has been so effective, that philosophy cannot speak its mind so freely 
as is necessary to insure its usefulness. It has been obliged to confine 
its reflections to the theory of knowledge and problems that have no 
manner of human interest in general, however important they may be 
for the philosopher himself. It should be free to speak as freely against 
religious illusions as it is to utter unintelligible and eulogistic phrases 
that are construed as a defence of it, but which are only subterfuges 
for the alteration of its meaning. It has not been as a fact institution- 
ally free, ever since Kant, to correct the tendencies of the religious 
mind to cling to sensational and anthropomorphic views, but has been 
obliged to compromise itself by an idealism that is as unintelligible to 
science as it is deceptive to religion of the prevalent type. It is only 
outside institutional philosophy that we can get any bold critical work. 
The work and influence of Mr. Spencer is evidence of this. No aca- 
demic philosophy will compare with his in power and effect, whatever 
adverse judgment we pronounce upon his system. It has been the 
academic philosopher that has attacked Mr. Spencer most vigorously 
and that attack has been directed almost exclusively against his " meta- 
physics " of the " Unknowable " while his doctrine of the " knowable," 
his science, which was as much or more opposed to the ordinary re- 
ligious conceptions than any of his "metaphysical" agnosticism, was 
systematically ignored. It was his doctrine of evolution that played 
such havoc with the prevailing theology and not his agnosticism, 
though the theological world allowed the reverse idea to survive as 
long as possible. Now that Mr. Spencer has made it clear in the last 
edition of the " First Principles " that the doctrine of the " knowable " 
is not logically dependent upon the correctness of his theory of the 
" Unknowable," there is no longer any excuse for using an easy victory 
over his " metaphysics," that are undoubtedly vulnerable in their logic 
and misunderstanding of the problem, to insinuate but not assert that 
this result is favorable to religion while the science of the " knowable ' 
retains its integrity against it. It does not save the reputation of the 
philosopher to permit the public to draw an inference from the attack 
on Spencer's agnosticism, which the philosopher himself does not re- 
gard as valid. But this has been the general course of his critics to 
vociferously denounce his " metaphysics" and to remain silent on the 
more destructive character of his science. It were better if the aca- 
demic world could frankly and boldly announce a doctrine of agnosticism 
in religious matters, as sincerity, clearness, and directness are more in- 



636 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

fluential and redeeming with honest thinkers than any amount of canting 
concession. It is certain that the jargon of Kanto-Hegelianism contains 
no definite message but agnosticism that can be intelligible to any but 
the initiated. It may be true, as we please to regard it. That I am 
not disputing. But how does it affect the great general questions in 
which the human race rightly or wrongly is interested? Can it firmly 
and openly defend the secular against the religious or the religious 
against the secular view of life, as they are ordinarily understood? Or 
can it mediate with sufficient clearness and earnestness between them? 
It certainly has not effected any of these results and its action is not quali- 
fied to effect them. If the Kantian and Hegelian systems were clear 
enough to have their sceptical position definitely understood, the problem 
would be explicitly defined and we should know what we believe regard- 
ing them when we approached religion and its claims. But unfortu- 
nately they disguise their real spirit and have not the courage or the free- 
dom to defend it. They will not boldlv defend the value of scepticism 
for man, but content themselves with the concealment of positivism be- 
hind metaphysical language. This only makes them hard to understand 
when they might as well be clear. I accord them the value of making 
hard students who have first to understand philosophy before they can 
understand these masters, but they have hardly any other service when 
it comes to producing clear and earnest convictions. The philosopher's 
first duty is to think out his problems in his own language and to give 
the result the widest intelligibility and acceptance that are possible. 
This is especially true, as I have remarked, in a democracy. Philos- 
ophy, like everything' else in democratic civilizations, must extend 
its service to the community at large or lose its place in education. It 
must have a message for the world in general, and it must be able to 
make that message clear. It does not require that it shall pander to 
prejudice and ignorance as the price of influence. There are various 
ways of a perfectly honest sort by which it may correct the errors and 
illusions of the world without compromising its dignity or integrity 
and without antagonizing the ideals that are imprisoned even in the 
basest of superstitions. All that it requires is sufficient knowledge of 
life and elasticity of mind to adjust its work to the complexity of the 
situation, stating clearly the strong and the weak aspects of the re- 
ligious temperament, and to feel enough for all orders of men to show 
the application of philosophic thought to the commonest details of life. 
Unfortunately, ever since Kant, it has had no positive message for 
the world, such as would be regarded as helpful. Having left to 
"faith" the belief of what has presumptively no rational evidence for 



CONCLUSION. 637 

its existence ; having adopted the gospel of agnosticism under the guise 
of an idealism which vociferously denounces a materialism that is 
harmless or irrelevant to the great problems of human interest as ordi- 
narily conceived, and having cut itself loose from the " empirical " and 
physical sciences in both method and results, it is wandering about in 
a priori reflections on nature that appear to have a meaning because 
the language in which they are couched seems to favor the religious 
view, while their real conceptions are concealed behind equivocations 
which few detect. It will not explicitly and courageously emphasize 
the nature and extent of our agnosticism in regard to the claims of 
"faith," or better, the illusory and erroneous conception of the com- 
mon religious mind. It either evades them altogether and concentrates 
its attention upon the problem of epistemology which has a purely 
minor interest, unless its conclusions can be utilized to enforce the 
lesson of knowledge or ignorance on the religious question, or it takes 
refuge in a jargon that has an orthodox ring but a heterodox meaning. 
What it needs most is the same missionary zeal for the limitations of 
knowledge on transcendental things as the religious mind has for its 
creed, that it may show where our real life and duties are to be occu- 
pied. But the consequence of its latitudinarianism and subterfuges is 
that it provokes the criticism which Kant himself, who was not alto- 
gether remiss on this point, had to direct against it in his own time. 
His remarks are found at the close of the Kritik in the section on the 
" Discipli7te of Pure Rcason^^ which should be studied quite as 
much as his theory of space and of judgment. Speaking there of the 
abuse that had been directed against Hume and Priestley for their scep- 
ticism, he makes a strong plea for frank and courageous speech on the 
fundamental problems of philosophy and deprecates the disingenuous- 
ness that prevailed in the treatment of those problems, having been 
himself nauseatingly emphatic in proclaiming the truth of agnosticism. 
" There is in human nature a certain disingenuousness which, how- 
ever, like everything that springs from nature, must contain a useful 
germ, namely, a tendency to conceal one's own true sentiments, and to 
give expression to adopted opinions which are supposed to be good and 
creditable. There is no doubt that this tendency to conceal oneself 
and to assume a favorable appearance has helped toward the progress 
of civilization, nay, to a certain extent, of morality, because others, 
who could not see through the varnish of respectability, honesty, 
and correctness, were led to improve themselves by seeing every- 
where these examples of goodness which they believed to be genuine. 
This tendency, however, to show oneself better than one really is, 



63S THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

and to utter sentiments which one does not really share, can only 
serve provisionally to rescue men from a rude state, and to teach 
them to assume at least the appearance of what they know to be good. 
Afterwards, when genuine principles have once been developed and 
become part of our nature, that disingenuousness must be gradually 
conquered, because it will otherwise deprave the heart and not allow 
the good seeds of honest conviction to grow up among the tares of fair 
appearances. 

" I am sorry to observe the same disingenuousness, concealment, 
and hypocrisy even in the utterance of speculative thought, though 
there are fewer hindrances in uttering our convictions openly and freely 
as we ought, and no advantage w^hatever in our not doing so. For 
what can be more mischievous to the advancement of knowledge than 
to communicate even our thoughts in a falsified form, to conceal doubts 
which we feel in our own assertions, and to impart an appearance of 
conclusiveness to arguments which we know ourselves to be inconclu- 
sive? So long as those tricks arise from personal vanity only (which is 
commonly the case with speculative arguments, as touching no particu- 
lar interests, nor capable of apodictic certainty), they are mostly coun- 
teracted by the vanity of others, with the full approval of the public at 
large, and thus the result is generally the same as what would or might 
have been obtained sooner by means of pure ingenuousness and hon- 
esty. But where the public has once persuaded itself that certain 
subtle speculators aim at nothing less than to shake the very founda- 
tions of the common welfare of the people, it is supposed not only 
prudent, but even advisable and honorable, to come to the succor of 
what is called the good cause, by sophistries, rather than to allow our 
supposed antagonists the satisfaction of having lowered our tone to that 
of a purely practical conviction, and having forced us to. confess the 
absence of all speculative and apodictic certainty. I cannot believe 
this, nor can I admit that the intention of serving a good cause can 
ever be combined with trickery, misrepresentation, and fraud. That 
in weighing the arguments of a speculative discussion we ought to be 
honest, seems the least that can be demanded ; and if we could at least 
depend on this with perfect certainty, the conflict of speculative reason 
with regard to the important questions of God, the immortality of 
the soul, and freedom, would long ago have been decided, or would 
soon be brought to a conclusion. Thus it often happens that the purity 
of the motives and sentiments stands in an inverse ratio to the goodness 
of the cause, and that its svipposed assailants are more honest and more 
straisrhtforward than its defenders." 



C ONCL US ION. 639 

This is a strong indictment of philosophers from one who has not 
wholly escaped criticism for the same real or apparent fault, and it 
seems to reproach them for cowardice and hypocrisy. But I am far 
from impugning them for so unfortunate a situation which exposes 
them as the world's teachers to this accusation. The fact is that they 
are quite ready to speak their minds, if they were conceded the free- 
dom they need and deserve. But democratic institutions will not grant 
this, and whether we call a government democratic or monarchic the 
extent of the suffrage makes all our western civilizations democratic 
in character and influence. A democracy insists upon reducing every- / 

thing to the level of the lowest class that can hold the balance of 
power. We usually charge socialism with this tendency, but it is 
probable that in every form of government socialism would soon develop 
into an aristocracy. But however this may be, democracy exalts the 
judgment and importance of the unintelligent classes that may happen 
to possess the balance of power. The demagogue and the politician 
appeal to the passions of the populace and flatter it with praise for 
its abilities to decide social questions until, with its acceptance of weak 
journalism as a gospel, it comes to feel that it is equal to the best in 
the determination of political counsels. The same spirit is fostered 
by the large number of religious denominations with their insistence 
upon the right of private judgment without tolerance for that of others. 
Our educational institutions are organized on the basis of making con- 
cessions to this tendenc}' and the result is that any attempt to teach 
disagreeable truths to political and religious masters is resented and 
missionary work is impossible, unless it expresses the belief of those 
who are to receive the teaching ! Philosophy suffers especially from 
this condition, because its duties bring it into moi-e ready conflict with 
the naive religious conceptions of the masses, who prefer to lead and 
govern rather than be instructed and guided. Philosophy has either 
to accommodate itself to popular opinion or to occupy itself with use- 
less or curious and unintelligible problems. It is not the right of the 
public to demand sincerity and missionary fervor when it will not con- 
cede the freedom of thought and speech which are so necessary a con- 
dition or test of them. We shall not have any independent philoso- 
phizing until men can criticise popular conceptions as freely as they are 
permitted to adopt or flatter them. Those who are willing to under- 
take the correction and guidance of the human mind must be allowed 
the right to dissent and criticise as well as to believe or to be adepts 
in prudence and silence. This freedom is fully enjoyed by the non- 
academic man, who has no calling to sustain and no bread to win, 



640 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

when he undertakes the expression of opinion. But our educational 
institutions are organized to pay respect to public opinion, not to direct 
it beyond its willingness to listen, and this opinion with its tyrannical 
love of power must not exj^ect its dependents to cultivate any other 
virtues than are actually permitted. There is no use to charge hypoc- 
risy in such a situation, as hypocrisy is not a vice where there Is no 
freedom. The conduct which often goes by that name is a perfectly 
legitimate mode of defence against intolerance. The tendency and 
right to accuse the teacher of this are the inheritance of those ages 
when the university was the leader, not the servant of the masses, and 
those conditions must be restored if that vice is to have any reproach. 
Moral courage and sincerity can be demanded only when there is toler- 
ance for difference of opinions and readiness to listen to knowledge 
when it comes from those whose function it is to know and impart it. 
Dialectical freedom was thought by Plato to be necessary to prevent 
intellectual pride, but he required that the pupil should be young and 
noble and fair as a condition of becoming sober and gentle toward 
other men and of not fancying that he knows what he does not know. 
The want of nobility of character made impossible, he thought, that 
insight which was the only source of the vision sublime. The philoso- 
pher is no less in need of this freedom as a condition of both his sin- 
cerity and usefulness. If it is not granted him his calling must degen- 
erate into the prudential consideration of safe and curious problems. 

Religion must accept, or at least share, the blame for this situation. 
Its obstinate antagonism to the " natural " has only succeeded in an- 
thropomorphizing the conception of God and his functional relation to 
the world and in divorcing the " supernatural " from the conception 
of law and order which the modern mind, infected with the scientific 
spirit or with the view of " nature" which that spirit has created, has 
come to respect. At first even Greek belief was divided on these mat- 
ters. Its fundamental conception of the gods endowed them with ca- 
price, but in the course of development they were either relegated to 
the intermundia, where they were divested of interference in the affairs 
of the world, or were subordinated to the wnll of one supreme power 
who was subject to but one limiting influence, namely, that of Fate. 
This was a tacit denial that personality lay at the basis of things. 
Religion accepted the challenge and in' subordinating cosmic phenom- 
ena to intelligence neglected to fully reconcile it with law and made 
the Divine capricious, as reflected in its theory of creation, its illustra- 
tions of miracles, and in its doctrine of salvation by grace. It was ar- 
bitrary intervention in the order of things that led the Epicureans to 



CONCLUSIOiY. 641 

put the gods out of court. Man cannot endure the exercise of irre- 
sponsible and incalculable power. He must rely upon constancy in 
cosmic events, and in fact can himself be made responsible only when 
his ideals, which seem so imperative for his development, can rely 
upon that constancy for their realization. Had Christianity identified 
the Divine more closely with the fixed order of '' nature" and made its 
will less capricious than it did, it would have accomplished all that 
Epicureanism effected and at the same time it would have invoked 
for that order the spirit of reverence that had characterized the Greek 
mind for "nature." As Fate was the shadow which nature cast on 
the Divine, it was quite natural, in the reaction against that inflexible 
order which had troubled man in his vision of God and which had 
shown him only the ugly side of the shield of Hercules, that he should 
endow personality with instability of character and thus make it the 
heir of the caprice that had determined the nature of the Greek gods. 
But fortunately he denuded it of their malice and inhuman propensities, 
and hence the attribute of benevolence saved it from ruin. But the 
progress of knowledge and of scepticism has so disturbed man's hopes 
for the future that he can see no benignities in the struggle for existence 
and the discovery reflects its somber hues again on the conception of 
the Divine and throws the whole responsibility for the restoration of 
those ideals and hopes upon the problem of a future life. Our con- 
ception of the Divine must be affected by what we think or know is 
the actual outcome of things, a situation created by the supremacy of 
scientific method which is the determination of truth by observation of 
present facts and not the mere deduction of prospects from a pj'iori j 

theories. Hence the present moment must be found to reflect the ^ 

future in some way as a means of deciding whether its course is as 
rational as it is inexorable, and the first step in this is the conviction 
that consciousness is as permanent as the mechanical order. i 

Whatever we may think of Kant he faced and discussed the great 
problems which had constituted the nature of philosophy from the be- 
ginning of its reflections. He did not hesitate to pronounce a scep- 
tical verdict upon them, and history will recognize the value of this 
result when it comes to estimate rightly and justly the service of scep- 
ticism to civilization in diverting man away from transcendental ideas 
which had induced him to neglect his proper social and practical 
duties. Kant's defect was that he did not see clearly enough his way 
to show how missionary enthusiasm, that is, all the moral fervor of the 
old religious ideal, could be applied to the natural life when the 
" other worldliness " of transcendentalism had been discredited. In 

41 



642 THE PROBLEMS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the attempt to correct the impersonal view of things in Greek thought, 
A\'hich had reacted against mythology, Christianity had rushed off 
again into the opposite extreme, adopting a personal conception of the 
cosmic order and concentrating a passionate attention upon an exist- 
ence beyond the present life that wholly underestimated the nature and 
importance of man's duties and relations to his present environment- 
Kant's philosophy called him back from this transcendental debauch 
into the world of reality where the drama of actual life has to be 
played and where ethics have all their beauty and imperativeness in 
aims and ends that may have a relation to the hereafter but that 
may be nevertheless as valid, though they may not be as efficient, 
without this hope. Kant stated these duties in a severe formula 
and with a tendency to admit that the rewards of virtue could 
only be found in another world. But the development of ethical re- 
flections leads us more and more toward the view that ideals need not 
lack attainment in the present order, if only we have the insight and 
courage to see and realize them within the limits of the conditions to 
which we are immediately responsible. Philosophy has a mission to 
inculcate the pursuit of the ideal in the real world and in the interest 
of this aim it need not counsel stoicism for the present life and tacitly 
or explicitly concede the right of inspiration to the transcendental, 
though further scientific investigations may reveal a prospect for the 
future that may stimulate moral endeavor as much as it can color life 
with religious fervor and passion. 



INDEX, 



A BELARD, 522 

Absolute, The, 546-553 
Absolute and Relative, 4, 8 
Acquisition, 238, 239 
yEschylus, 385 
^Etiological, 26, 39, 40 
Etiological argument, 546-560 
Etiological interpretation of nature, 

350 
Etiology and Teleology, 353-357 
Analytic judgments, 157 
Anaxagoras, 363, 365, 375, 376, 380, 

383 
Anselm, 522 
Anthropology, 28 
Antisthenes, 7 

Apperception, 77, 103, 131, 143-146 
Apprehension, 77, 78, 98-106, iii, 193- 

197 
Aquinas, 183 
Aristotle, 8, 178, 180, 183, 184, 18S, 231, 

265, 266, 363, 365, 370, 371, 374, 

380, 383, 526, 534 

"DACON, 231 

Becoming, 8 
Being, 5, 8, 12 

Being and Knowing, 6, 12, 91 
Belief, 9, 10, 11, 61 
Berkeley, 12, 13, 41, 53, 74, 173, 175, 

265-271, 275, 277, 310, 313, 316, 

319, 340, 342, 583 
Binocular vision, 312, 318, 321, 331 
Biology, 27, 31 
Brewster, 246, 310 
Busse, 337 

PAIRD, 491 

Carlyle, 522 
Categories, 112, 113, 121 
Causality, Category of, 120, 121 
Casuality, Material, 323, 342, 371 
Cause, 18, 19, 46-48, 51-55, 371 
Certitude, 59, 61, 63, 126, 127 



643 



Change, 5, 216 

Christianity, 9-12, 16, 60, 68, 181, 336, 

406, 407, 40S, 584, 585, 599, 621, 

626, 627 
Classification, 288 
Classification of the sciences, 22, 24, 

27 
Cleanthes, 585 
Cognition, 107, iii, 129, 130 
Cognitioiiis, Ordo, 154 
Cognoscendi, Ratio, 19, 20, 122, 125, 

166, 245, 252 
Collier, 74 

Communication of knowledge, 157, 158 
Comte, 22, 24, 26, 35 
Concepts, Singular and General, 108, 

109 
Concrete concepts, 108, 109 
Condillac, 340 

Conperception, 77, 103, 139-143, 202 
Composition of elements, 34S, 349 
Consciousness, 79 
Consciousness, Immediate, 192 
Conservation of energy, 390-397, 468, 

486 
Copernicus, 243, 377 
Corpuscular theory of perception, 264 
Correlation of forces, 393 
Cosmological, 49-56 
Cosmological problem, 531-537 
Criteria of truth, 178-257 
Crookes, Sir William, 376 

RALTON, 408 

Dante, 600, 610 
Darwin, 243 

Davy, Sir Humphrey, 249 
Deductive reasoning, 233 
Definition, 184, 217, 2S4 
Democritus, 361, 362, 363, 366, 375, 376 
Deontology, 27, 29 
Descartes, 2, 11, 13, 60, 62, 72, 116, 

193, 195, 285, 391, 392, 397, 398, 

399, 400, 522, 523, 558 



644 



INDEX 



Dickinson, 621 

Dimension, the third, 267-271, 310 

Diitge an sick, 37, 298-303 

Diversity, 126, 127 

Doubt, 61. See Scepticism. 

Dreams, 206 

Dualism, 10, 357 

pLEATICS, 8, 361 

Empedocles, 8, 264, 266, 363 
Empiricism, 70, 71 
Epicurus and Epicureanism, 7, 8, 9, 16, 

74, 361, 362, 363, 366, 368, 369, 370, 

373. 375. 381. 503. 548, 550, 583 
Epistemology, 28, 44, 58-167, 1S2, 1S3 
Epistemological realism, 277, 279, 293- 

295, 3*30 
Ergological, 25 
Efkenrit/iiss, 58, 59 
Essence, 5 
Essendi, Ratio, 19, 20, 122, 166, 240, 

245. 252 
Ethology, 27, 29 
Events, 104, 105 

Evolution of space perception, 319 
Existence of God, 35, 513-574, 599- 

607 
Experiment, 238 
Experience, 7, 14, 69 
Explanation, iS, 20, 21, 238, 239, 358 
Explanatory and evidential problems, 

358 
Extension, 109, 187 
Extensive judgments, 123, 129, 218 

pAITH, 10, II, 61, 68, 628-633 

Fichte, 74, 345 
Fiendi Ratio, 19, 20, 122, 240, 245, 252 
Fischer, Kuno, 523 
Franklin, 242 
Free will, 47S-481 

TALILEO, 243 

Gassendi, 391 
General concepts, Singular and, 108, 

109 
Generalization, 14S, 210 
Genesis of space perception, 259-263 
God, Conception of, 524, 527, 531 
God, Existence of, 35, 5^3-574. 599-6o7 



Greek thought, 2, 8, 9, 12, 16, 19, 60, 64, 
365, 371, 406, 50S, 513-516, 543, 
5S4. 595. 599. 621, 626, 627 

Green, T. H., 74, 81 

Grove, 393 

TTALLUCINATIONS, 206 

Hamilton, 87, 183, iSS, 550 
Hawksbee, 249 
Hegel, 74, 345, 404, 587, 636 
Heraclitus, 5, 7, 8, 363 
Herbart, 495 
Hobbes, 391 
Hobhouse, 59 
Holland, 30 
Homer, 609 
'How do we know?' i, 64, 65, 71, 

73 
Huyghens, 391 
Hume, 12, 13, 115, 116, 120, 175, 340, 

637 
Huxley, 564, 612 
Hylology, 28, 34, 334 
Hyperaesthesia, 488, 489 
Hypothesis, 238, 241 

IDEAL and real, 4 

Idealism, 4, 5, 12, 14, 15, 16, 72, 
168, 169, 170, 171, 174, 176, 280, 
335. 336, 337. 339. 347. 356, 
378, 379. 502-506, 578-583, 
585 

Identity, Principle of, 127 

Ideological, 26 

Inductive reasoning, 233 

Illusions, 206, 264 

Immediate consciousness, 192 

Indestructibility of matter, 386-390. 
486 

Individuality, 457 

Inertia, 379-384, 533 

Inference, 190 

Infero-apprehension, 151 

InJIuxus physicus, 53, 66, 323, 542, 452, 
502 

Insight, 67 

Intellectualism, 347 

Intension, 109 

Intensive judgments, 123, 125, 219 

Intuition, 14, 107, loS 



INDEX. 



645 



TEVONS, 249 
^ Judgment, 107, iii 
Judgments, Mathematical, 213, 215, 227 
Judgments, Substantive, 213, 227 
Jurisprudence, 30 

I^ANT, 2, 12, 13, 14, 26, 34, 37, 43, 44, 

45. 52, 58, 59. 60, 69, 74, 77, 105, 
III, 112, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 
120, 121, 126, 152, 157, 181, 242, 
260-264, 271-309, 318-330, 337, 
340-346, 366, 483, 490, 491, 492, 
494-502, 514-524, 525, 526, 528, 
537. 54*. 550, 560, 561, 582, 583, 
587. 594-597. 630-632, 635, 636, 
637, 641, 642 
Kepler, 242, 243 
Kingsley, Charles, 612 
Knowledge, 14, 59, 62, 63, 68, 69, 70, 

80, 91, 115, 116, 149 
Knowledge and Reality, 3, 6, 7, 8, 12 
Knowledge, presentative, 136, 142, 156 
Knowledge, The limits of, 43 
Knowledge, Theories of, and Reality, 

70, 72 
Kuno Fischer, 523 

T APLACE, 377 

Law, 18, 20, 21, 25 

Lecky, Mr., 515 

Le Conte, 321 

Leibnitz, 153, 286, 287, 294, 300, 301, 
324, 329, 342, 344, 376, 383, 398, 
399. 490. 492, 499. 500, 525, 558 

Liebmann, 337 

Life, 31 

Localization, 312, 322 

Localization of brain functions, 481 

Locke, 12, 13, 77, 583 

Lodge, Sir Oliver, 376, 507 

Logic, 21, 29, 30, 113, 179-192, 231 

Logical classification, 23, 28 

Lotze, 5, 25, 50, 529 

Lucretius, 340, 343, 361, 362, 369 

MAGNITUDE and sensation, 325 
Malebranche, 299 

Materialism, 12, 17, 73, 76, 335, 336, 
337, 339i 345. 347. 348, 349, 351- 
354, 361-408, 471-475, 478, 482- 
487, 502-506, 588-590 



Mathematical judgments, 213, 215, 227 

Memory, 97, 156 

Mechanical theory, 367, 370, 390-393 

Mendelssohn, 337, 496, 497, 499, 500 

Mentation, 93 

Metaphysics, 26, 34, 37, 40 

Method of Agreement, 241, 482 

Method of Concomitant Variations, 246 

Method of Difference, 246, 482 

Method of Residues, 246 

Method, Scientific, 20, 23, 246-257 

Metrology, 34, 35, 334 

Mill, 29, 185, 231, 232, 233, 236, 247 

Milton, 610 

Mind, 79 

Morley, John, 623, 634 

ISIonism, 357 

J\JATUR^-E, Ordo, 154 

Nature, 18 
Necessity, 126, 127, 214 
Neo-Platonism, 7, 9 
Newton, 242, 243, 245, 377 
Nominalism, 26 
Nomological, 25 
Noumenological, 26, 46-49, 57 
Noumenon, 4, 37, 38, 44 
Nova Dilucidatio, 302, 324 

ABJECTIVE and subjective, 3, 6, 8, 

Objectivity, 8, 278-333 
Observation, 238 
Occasional cause, 342, 351 
Ontological, 26, 39, 40 
Ontological realism, 277, 279, 290-295 
Ordo cog)iitio7tis, 154, 212, 252, 346 
Ordo naturce, 154, 212, 294 
Org-atioH, 180 
Orthological, 26, 34 

pAN-MATERIALISM, 72 

Pan-spiritualism, 72 
Pantheism, 605-607 
Parallax, Binocular, 312, 318 
Parallelism, 398-404, 463-470 
Perception, 14, 103, 117, 132, 176, 

202 
Perception of solid objects, 313, 327 
Permanent and transient, 5, 82 



646 



INDEX. 



Phenomena, 4, 10, 14, 80, 204, 277, 

340-345 
Phenomenalism, 42 
Philosophic movements, 2 
Philosophy, 633-642 
Pkysicus, tnjlnxus, 53, 56, 287, 323, 342, 

452, 502 
Plane dimension, 314 
Plato, 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 60, 61, 74, 81, 

82, 105, 180, 265, 340, 341, 365, 371, 

373. 383> 385. 498. 503, 539. 541, 

583. 609 
Pluralism, 357 
Plurality, 126, 127, 457 
Pneumatology, 28, 35, 36 
Politics, 27 
Possibility, 126, 129 
Positivism, 34, 42 
Prattology, 27, 29 

Presentative knowledge, 136, 142, 156 
Priestley, 637 

Principle of Coincidence, 247 
Principle of Identity, 127 
Principle of Isolation, 247, 248 
Probability, 126, 127 
Proof, 67, 190, 200 
Property, 284, 286, 291 
Propositions, iio 
Psychology, 21, 28 
Purkinje, 316 
Pyrrho, 7 
Pyrrhonism, 178 

QUALITATIVE CHANGE, 465 
Quality, 113, 114 
Qiiantity, 113, 114 

J^ATIO AG END I, 19, 20, 122 

Ratio cognoscefidi, 19, 20, 122, 166, 
240, 252 

Ratio essendi, 19, 20, 122, 166, 240, 252 

Ratio fietidi , 19, 20, 122, 240, 245, 252 

Ratiocination, 146-148, 186 

Realism, 5, 14, 15, 72, 73, 168, 170, 171, 
174, 176, 207, 280, 335, 336, 347, 
356, 378-583 

Realism, epistemological, 277, 279, 

293-295. 300 
Realism, hypothetical, 170 
Realism, ontological, 277, 279, 290-295 



Reality, 3, 4, 6, 7, 12, So, 81, 82, 127, 

132, 135 
Reason, 2, 7, 10, 11, 628-633 
Reasoning, 179, 183-192 
Reason, Law of Sufficient, 122 
Reid, Thomas, 183 
Relation, 113, 119, 126 
Religion and Science, 607-628, 640 
Representative knowledge, 156 

CCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY, 18, 

21, 44, 230 
Scepticism, 2, 3, 37, 59, 70, 71, 89, 91, 

586, 587, 609 
SchelUng, 74, 345 
Schopenhauer, 22 
Scientific Method, 179, 230, 237, 238, 

246 
Sensation, 2, 78, 85-93, 102, 280 
Sensationalism, 347 
Serial classification, 22, 28 
Sigwart, 236 
Similarity, 126, 127 
Singular terms, 108 
Sleep, 473, 478, 485 
Sociology, 29 

Solipsism, 73, 170, 172, 174, 280, 319 
Sophists, 3, 4, 5, 364, 385, 503 
Soul, 79 

Soul, Epicurean theory of, 368 
Space, 104, 126, 127, 258-333 
Space perception. Genesis of, 259- 

263 
Space perception. Nature of, 259-263 
Space and Time, 35 
Spencer, Herbert, 12, 22, 23, 24, 635 
Spinoza, 12, 285, 300, 301, 329, 361, 

399, 40S, 525, 605, 606 
Spiritualism, 12, 17, 76, 168, 336, 337, 

347. 349. 354-356, 409-512, 588- 

590 
Sterling, 405 
Stoics, 7, 8, 365 
Subjective, 8, 278, 502 
Substance, 5, 35 

Substantive judgments, 213, 227 
Sully, 337 
Superphysical, 8 
Supersensible, 8, 10 
Sweden borg, 490 



INDEX. 



647 



'pERTULLIAN, 467 

Thales, 362 
Time, 104, 126, 127 
Teleological, 26, 34 
Teleological argument, 560-570 
Teleological interpretation of nature, 

350 
Teleology and Etiology, 353-357 
Transcendental world, 14 

T TLPIAN, 30 

Unity, 26, 127 
Unseen Universe, 466 
Upright vision, 316, 320 



YAIHINGER, 272, 341 

Verification, 238, 244 
Vital force, 31 
Vortex-atom theory, 506 

' WHAT do we know ? ' 64, 65, 71, 157 

' What is a thing ? ' 161 
Wheatstone, 310, 312 
Whewell, 236 

Wirkltchkeit, 297-29S 

Wtssensc/tafi, 58, 59 
' World of facts,' etc., 25 
Wundt, 236 

2EN0, 519 



